Can You Stop?
by Lynnth2014
Summary: This picks up after Rick left Carol on the side of the road. It's strictly Carol/Daryl with hints of Rick/Michonne that may lead to something more. This is my first story, so forgive me if it's a bit odd. I'll try to fix that.
1. Introduction

As the group gathered round for Rick's announcement, Daryl did a head count again—still no Carol. He was sure she'd assist Hershel and Maggie in passing out the medication, but it was like she was nowhere to be found. It was rather odd. Carol's like the mother of them all, but instead of helping, she's just...gone. The feeling unsettled him. What had happened while he and the others had gone on their run?

Rick stood before them, looking over the curious and questioning eyes of Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Beth, Hershel, Tyreese, Michonne, Carl and Sasha. He took a deep breath, hand on his gun, and he stepped toward them a bit. "I found out who killed Karen and David," he told them in that crisp voice, that cold resolve.

Tyreese's head lifted, his heart beginning to race at the long anticipated news of who had killed the woman he was falling in love with and a man he respected. "Who was it?" he demanded.

His eyes flickered momentarily to Daryl and Beth then off in the distance, his heart aching as the scene unfolded in his mind of how she told him and how he left it. "It was Carol. Carol killed Karen and David to stop this flu from spreadin'."

Silence enveloped them. Beth's mouth slowly fell open as she gripped baby Judith to her chest, Maggie just looked stunned, Glenn couldn't feel anything, Michonne was a blank-faced as always, though the slight twitch of her lip showed her...emotion, Hershel eyed Rick, closely, looking for the answer to his questions, Carl let out a soft whimper and Tyreese...was lost. Carol was a woman he trusted, a woman who was so gentle, so loving toward everyone. He couldn't believe she would callously kill Karen and David, drag their bodies out to that courtyard and burn them. He could, however, believe that she would do it for the good of everyone. It's what she does—the little things—like taking care of messes, fixing what needed to be fixin'.

"What?" Beth managed finally before anyone else, holding Judith so close. "But she wouldn't do that." She shook her head, disbelieving the woman she'd known for so long had done something so out of character, something so...heartless. "Carol would never harm one of our own." She looked helplessly at the others around her, biting her lip to keep the tears away.

"Well, she did," Rick replied. "She did, so I—I had to make a choice."I _had to make a choice._

"And what choice was that?" Michonne asked, her brown eternal eyes trained on him.

"I told her to leave." He felt a lump in his throat, but he kept going. "I gave her food, water, gasoline, and I sent her on her way. She'll find shelter, and she'll find another group. She's strong, and she'll make it."

"That's why you didn't want me to go," Maggie realized.

"And I needed someone to look after the camp," he added honestly.

"And she just left?" Hershel searched his eyes. "Without Mika or Lizzie?"

"Well, no. No, she wanted them, but I wouldn't agree. Lizzie's sick, and Mika's ten. I told her we'd take care of them, and we will."

"And you...made this choice?" Daryl finally spoke up.

"I—I did." He eyed Daryl's unmoving frame.

"What happened to we decide?" Beth blurted angrily, having grown close to the older woman over the course of several months and caring for Judy.

His eyes moved to her. "I—"

"No! You said "we choose"," she spat, causing Judy to stir and begin to cry. "It was our choice to stay, our choice to go, but the minute it comes to a group decision, you just decide for yourself?" She shook her head and soothed the sobbing infant.

"Beth," Maggie began, but the young girl jerked away and headed for the admissions building, furious. "Beth!" Maggie slid by Glenn and jogged after her little sister, catching her at the gate.

"Girl's got a point," Michonne murmured. "You apparently said it was up to us—all of us—and you made this decision by yourself? When did you become the leader again?"

"I made this choice for my family," he admitted. "She's changed. She's dangerous. She killed two of our people in cold blood! Hershel, those are your words, not mine."

"It wasn't up to you," Glenn decided. "We have the council for decisions like this. I can understand punishing her—it completely logical. I just—You've been in the position of handing out rations and—and medicine, and for you to decide something like this...alone...it's—it's a bit...selfish." He was having a hard time grasping words that fit this situation. It's Carol. How can it still be...Carol who did this?

"Selfish?" Rick echoed, scoffing. "Did y'all seem to forget that she murdered two of our own in cold blood? That she burned their bodies? Stabbed them in the back of the head when they weren't expecting it?"

"Oh, I'm not forgetting that," Glenn assured him. "I'm still swallowing that. What I'm saying is you made this decision by yourself when this was a group decision. She did this to protect us, and she had the right to a fair...trial. We all—"

"Are you defending her?" He narrowed his eyes.

"No! I'm not defending her! I'm simply say—"

"I did what I did to protect us!" he roared. "I sent off a woman I've known from the start, because I don't know who that woman is anymore! She can't be trusted!"

Daryl's eyes narrowed considerably, but he remained silent, biting his lower lip. But Daryl was the last of Rick's worries. No one saw it coming. No one saw him move, but Tyreese had lunged and grasped Rick by the front of his shirt, his teeth bared like an animal. Almost everyone lurched forward, but stopped just before they reached him, his hand out, telling them to not put themselves in harms way.

"I told you to bring them to me!" he growled. "I told you—bring—them—to—me! Where is she?"

Rick met his eyes, a slight rage was burning behind those crystal pools. "I don't know. I don't care to know."

He released him, hands shaking, and he began to storm off.

"Where are you going?" Sasha called after him.

He didn't reply.

She left the group to bicker and followed him as he rampaged towards the gate.

"We should've gotten the choice," Hershel spoke up, defending his son-in-law. "You stepped down as a leader, because you couldn't make those decisions anymore. Are you ready to be our leaders again? Or was this a one-time deal?" He wanted to know.

Rick stepped back. "I—" He though back, at what Carol had said to him, about his leaderships skills and how he couldn't be _just_ a farmer. She was right. He couldn't just sit back and be a farmer. There was no use for just a farmer at a time like this. If he was going to lead, he had to do it completely, not halfheartedly. He could step up and be the leader he was before or remain the right-hand-man. He'd have to decide sooner rather than later. "I've thought about it, and I'll need a bit more time—"

"It's always about time," Daryl murmured, his nerves maxed out. He respected Rick for so much, but lately, that respect was being channeled elsewhere. His narrow eyes landed on the world-worn man who was trying to reclaim part of the past that had been dead for a long time. "It ain't about who did what or said what, it's about how you let it play out. Carol killed them to keep this illness from spreadin'."

"She did what she thought was right. In her mind, she was protecting the group. She saw a threat and she took it out," Hershel added. "Haven't some of us done the same?"

Rick knew he was referring to the two men in the bar, Shane, Tomas, and the boy Carl took out, because he did what he thought he had to do. There was a different between those events. Tomas was an obvious threat, those men as well, and Shane... Shane was no longer who he was, lost sight of that a while ago. And Carl... Carl was just...

_ Killing a boy in cold blood, _a voice in his head taunted when he couldn't complete the thought.

He sighed. If Carol could be effected by this world and turn into a killer, what will happen to Carl? And Judy? How will they know the difference between knowing when to kill and knowing when to back off? How can he protect this camp if he doesn't even know what darkness lies inside the people he's protecting? What are their limits? Can he do this? Can he cast away Carol for committing murder and protect his children from becoming like that when they're older? Could he still be himself and live with that?

"We don't kill the living," he reminded them, Dale instantly popping into his head. He would've wanted her to have a fair trial, even if she confessed. He was so adamant on protecting our humanity. Damned fool. "We do not killing the living."

"What do you think you just did?" Daryl snorted. "Gave her a fort on Wall Street with maids and food all 'round? She ain't no warrior, can't hunt to save her life."

"What do you want me to do? Go out and find her?" He glared. "She's gone. She's isn't coming back. Let's all adjust to that. We have people to help." He walked through them and stopped by Beth and Maggie. "Beth—"

Her delicate hand came across his face with a sharp sting, her eyes rimmed with red, and he swallowed hard, accepting her angry. Maggie grasped her hand and led her away, soothing her, trying to comfort that thoughts running through her head. Rick shook his head slightly and kept walking, Carl followed him.

"What are we gonna do?" Glenn asked no one in particular, hands on his head, squinting at the sunlight that glared down on them.

"We all got jobs to do," Hershel replied. "We got bodies to move, and we have the sick to tend to. We're gonna need everyone." He turned and headed to the prison.

"And you?" Michonne asked Daryl, knowing his feelings toward Carol, their close friendship. She looked at him through the corner of her eyes.

"I ain't no doctor," he admitted. "Don't see much for me to do around here." He shuffled his feet.

Michonne crossed her arms. "Don't see much for you either," she agreed, glancing at him through the corners of her eyes. "Not much at all." She slowly backed up before turning around completely and walking towards the prison.

"I'm sure she's fine," Glenn told Daryl, not looking at him, but at the sky, trying to be hopeful. "She's tough, you know. Lucky too. I mean, you found her in a cell after...what? Two, three days? And she made it off the farm, 'cause she got lucky that you were there, so I'm sure she's—Daryl?" He looked around. "Daryl?" He groaned. "Great, now he's gone off too. And I continue to talk to myself."

He put his hands on his hips. "Good luck, Daryl." He laughed. "I'm still talking to myself." He started for the prison, faintly hearing the hum of a motorcycle. Go get her, Dixon.

Ducking behind a bookcase, Carol gripped the knife at her hip, listening as the walker in the store dragged itself along, moaning. She wiggled her fingers to keep the sweat from making the blade slippery. It was blazing hot today. What she wouldn't give for some AC right now. Or even an ice bath.

_Shuffle_.

She tensed and heard it move closer.

"Aahh." That breathy moan followed by more dragging.

She lunged and thrusted the blade into its frontal lobe, jerking it out as blood splattered onto her dirty red shirt. She tucked the knife away and returned to hunting. She found some extra bullets and a .38 tucked away in a room where a woman and a child were decaying, probably killed by the man in the picture, who she'd just taken out downstairs. She found some reasonably clean clothes and changed out of her ratty shirts. She took a few for later and exited the house.

Wiping her brow, she gazed up at the sun and took a small drink of water. She forced herself on as to not think about anything but survival. Where would she stay tonight? In the little shit hole she found a few miles away that barely was standing? Or here? She kicked an arm out of her away and padded down the steps, tossing her bag into the backseat of the car. She'd gotten gas and a few more knives and a couple of bullets. She was gathering. Gathering supplies and trying to find a safe place for Mika and Lizzie. She couldn't leave them there. She wouldn't. She made a promise to their father, and she would keep it. She would keep those girls alive, no matter how. She just needed a place.

She sharpened her blade on the steps of the house she'd cleared. It was stable, and there were no major blood stains. It was actually really nice. The neighborhood had been cleared, so she found some clothes for the girls, some weapons and a few cans of beans and seeds. Mika would enjoy a garden. There was potting soil inside, and they could catch rain or get water from the river down a ways. Lizzie would like it.

She didn't allow herself to think Lizzie was weak, not anymore. She was tough, tougher than Sophia had ever been. She exhaled slowly and paused in sharping her blade. Sophia. She allowed herself two minutes to mourn the little girl who could've survived this world had her mother only been strong enough then. But she wasn't, and that little girl was someone else's slid show, as she'd put it while picking tomatoes and swiping stories with Rick only a few days ago.

_Come on, Carol, don't do this. You need to get to Lizzie and Mika, the rest is unimportant._ She stood up and prepared the car she'd acquired—one of the many things she'd picked up from Daryl. She headed back to the prison in the black, silent as the night wind, inconspicuous car. She waited until nightfall to drive the car a few minutes from the prison. She slipped out of the car and heard a commotion. She ducked down and saw something running across the yard.

Lizzie felt better with the medication, and she really wanted to see Carol now. And Mika. She was out and about by the third day of medication, but it was already late, so she went to find Carol before she went to get her last douse of pills, but when she got to her cell, Lizzie's smile died. It was—empty. Her clothes were in a bag under the bed as usual, but the bed was untouched, and Carol liked things clean, but she always was in here if it wasn't her watch.

She frowned and went to find Mika. Perhaps Carol was teaching them how to use knifes or something. She was caught by Rick exiting the prison. She swallowed and met his eyes bravely. "Hi."

"Hi." He crouched down. "What are you doin' out here? It's cold. You just got better."

"I want to see Carol. Where is she?" She searched his eyes and sensed something was wrong.

He rubbed his jaw. "Well, Lizzie, you see, the thing is—"

"What is it?" she interrupted. "Where is Carol? Don't make excuses."

He chuckled softly and nodded. "Carol is gone."

Her heart stopped. _We're gonna make it. You, me, your sister—we're all gonna make it. No! No!_ She couldn't handle losing anyone else. Carol may not have been her mother, but she had a motherly air that no child could resist. That's why she'd called her mom. It was an accident, but...she meant it. Gone? Gone as in dead? Or gone as in she'll come back? Is Carol still out there? "Gone how?"

"She left." He didn't want to explain the details to a child. "She broke the rules, and she had to leave."

"You kicked her out." She stepped back. "Why? What'd she do?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you get inside and get into bed. You need rest."

Something inside her told her to run. She back away and then took off.

"Lizzie!" He went after her.

She was small, but younger and faster. She ran across the yard, stumbling slightly in the dark. She ran over to the gate and ducked down, crouching down. She backed up as Rick got closer, something grabbed the back of her shirt, and a hand covered her mouth so she wouldn't scream. She was pulled out of the other hole and she stumbled into Carol.

"Carol?" she whispered.

"Shh." She glanced at Rick then back at Lizzie. "We don't have long to talk, but I need you to do a few things for me, okay? Can you do that?"

She nodded.

"I need you to get Mika. Can you do that?"

"Get Mika? Are we coming with you?"

She nodded. "Yes. Be careful and quick."

"Okay. I'll meet you back here in a few minutes." She glanced over. "And you can tell me why you had to leave then." She disappeared back into the gate and ran across the field to get to the admissions office.

Carol hid once more and she waited about ten minutes before Lizzie came back. Alone. With a duffel bag. "Where's Mika?"

Lizzie was breathless. "She was too scared to come with us."

Carol frowned, but she couldn't exactly go in there and force her to come. She sighed and stood up. She didn't like it, but she had to leave before Rick or anyone else saw her. "I see." She took the duffel bag. "Do you want to come or do you feel obligated to come?"

"I wanna come." She fell into step with Carol. "I'd rather be with you than... Well, I'd just rather be with you. You don't lie to us. Don't sugarcoat anything."

Carol set a hand on her head and led her to the car, opening the door and setting her bag in the backseat. She drove them back to the house; Lizzie took a few pills and fell asleep on the way. Carol remembered when she and Sophia would go out without Ed—which was very rare. She would always fall asleep in the car on the way back. She'd have to carry her back inside, at least until she got too big to be carried inside.

She had to restrain her hand from reaching over and ruffling the blond hair to rouse Lizzie from her sleep when she parked in front of the house. She slid out of the car and closed the door, waking Lizzie, and she took the bag, holding the door open for Lizzie as she stumbled inside. Lizzie fell asleep on the couch, and Carol sat down with her back against the couch, knees upraise and let out a deep breath, holding her gun in her hand.

_Mika._

Lizzie had fallen off the couch and was curled up against Carol, who'd fallen asleep for a split second, and she snuck over the window, peering out. The coast was clear. She let Lizzie sleep and went to get more boards from outside, dragging her hands down her face to wake up, and she opened the door back. To her surprise, a man stood just outside, squirrels resting on a rope at his hip, the crossbow in front of him, ready to shoot, and his eyes were focused. Until she'd opened the door, that is.

"Daryl?" She sounded surprised. How in the hell did he find her? Better yet: Why was she so surprised? It's Daryl. He could probably find a needle in a haystack. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to find you." He looked behind her. "Nice place." He stepped inside, loosening the rope. "Brought you somethin' to eat." He held it out to her.

"Daryl, why are you here? You must know." She didn't take the rope. "Rick must've told you, so why are you here?"

"'Cause I care about you." He faced her. "Wanted to make sure you was okay."

"Well, I am." She crossed her arms. "You can leave now. Rick will need you back at the prison, and I have a busy day ahead, so thank you for the...squirrels, and have a nice trip back." She brushed by him and woke Lizzie. "Go upstairs, okay? Get settled."

Lizzie glanced at Daryl then did as she was told, curiously watching.

"You took the little girl?" Daryl sounded stunned.

"She's mine," she corrected. "I didn't _take_ anything."

He scoffed. "I know why you did what you did. You were protectin' the group. Hell, Andrea shot me to protect the group. I get it."

Her eyes locked in his. "No, you don't."

"Try me." He stepped closer, not threatening her, more like _daring_ her.

"I killed two people to protect the group, and they were ours. They were a part of our group, they were still alive, and I ended it. I stepped up and killed two people who I talked on a daily basis, liked even, trying to stop this from spreading, but it didn't work." She shrugged. "I didn't stop anything."

He searched her face and understood it now. He touched her shoulder, she stepped back, and he drew his hand back. "Hard-ass don't work on you."

She glared. "What does then?" she countered. "Crying my eyes out? Barely escaping walkers? Nearly dying and having to be saved by someone who just happened to be around? Does that work better on me?"

His faced hardened. "That what this is about? You bein' weak by showin' emotions?"

She scoffed, but he knew by that he was right. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right in a way. She didn't feel weak when she cried, it was a normal human thing to do, but crying reminded her of her old self—brought to tears by every little thing. That was no way to protect anyone, let alone herself. She had to be hard, cold, to survive this world, and she would do whatever it takes. She wouldn't let anyone else die for her. No one.

"I ain't gonna let you pull away," he informed her, reminding her of their conversation many months—feeling likes years—ago.

She shook her head. "I have to feed Lizzie, and I have to board the windows. Go." She picked up the keys to the car. "And unless I'm wearin' walker ears, I'm just fine."

"Clashes with your eyes," he murmured.

She smiled softly, but when she turned, it was gone. "Goodbye, Daryl." She set her hand carefully on his arm, covered by his leather jacket, and placed a kiss on his cheek. She got the boards and nails from the car, but when she returned, he had unloaded his gear and was helping to board the windows with Lizzie.

He heard her exasperated sight. "Least I can do is help y'all get safe." He took the boards from her and the nails.

"Fine, but this is the last thing," she told him.

He didn't reply.

They had every window protected, all of their belongings in the bedroom of the first floor, two beds moved inside, Daryl did a lot of the heavy lifting while Carol and Lizzie moved items—like the couch or a dresser—in front of the door and low hanging windows. They all worked up an appetite, and worked well into the night, so Carol knew Daryl would be spending the night. She wouldn't risk him walking out there alone at night, not like before. It was too risky. Being caught by walkers was the last of her worries. He could get sick. He could be infected right now, so she wouldn't risk it.

Carol let Daryl show Lizzie how to skin and gut squirrels then roasted what meat was there over the fire with a can of beans. They split it three ways, Lizzie fell asleep from all of the work, Daryl and Carol sat with their backs against the couch, facing the roaring fireplace. She hugged her legs closer and rubbed her neck, stiff, and Daryl made more arrows for the return trip.

"You ain't gonna come back with me?" he asked finally.

"Does being banned have no meaning to you?" she bitterly replied.

He stopped and turned his head toward her. "Do you even feel bad 'bout it?" He wanted to know.

"I don't regret it. I only regret not being able to stop it sooner." She rested her head on the cushion of the couch. "I don't like that I did it, just so you know," she murmured.

"I know." He went back to his work, blowing more shavings into the fire.

"Aren't you mad?" She turned her head to look at him. "Don't you no longer trust me? Wanna see me die out here alone? Anything like that?"

He blow on the tip of the arrow. "Seems like Rick has enough of that for all of us. Stand by why you did whatcha did, gotta respect that."

She smiled. "For that, I'll give you some fruit for the return trip."

"Ain't you a peach?"

They both laughed, and fell into a comfortably silent. She fell asleep to the sound of his knife running alone the wooden stick that would become an arrow and the popping fireplace.

She woke to a strange sound, she discovered Daryl was beside, their legs tangled in front of the fireplace, his knife pressing against her hip, and she sat up carefully. Lizzie had again "fallen" off the couch, so she stuck. She could see the sun had no come up, so she lied back down and rested her head on Daryl's arm. She studied the right side of his face as he sleep, her eyes always leading back to his lips. She'd considered what it would be like to have Daryl kiss her, but everything seemed to fall short. She spent most of her life in a loveless, abusive marriage, and the thought of someone like Daryl Dixon kissing her—slowly, softly or hot and rough—made her body jump start with emotions that she thought had died a long time ago. And watching him sleeping beside her made temptation so hard to resist. She reminded herself that Lizzie was beside her, and closed her eyes.

She didn't fall back asleep, because Daryl sat up. She sat up carefully as to not wake Lizzy, and she noticed the glistening sweat on his forehead. He was swallowing hard, and she tensed. He was sick.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he grumbled, groggily, clearing his throat.

She didn't reply. She reached out and set a hand on his forehead. He was getting hot, and not in the good way unfortunately. "Are you sick?"

"'Course not." He knocked her hand off. "It's this damn fireplace and the body heat."

"You're sick." She heard the panic in her voice. "Stand up." She helped him to his feet.

"You're makin' a hassle over nothin'." He repressed a cough.

She led him into the bedroom and helped him onto the bed. "C'mon." She pulled his shirt off, leaving him in one shirt with cut-off sleeves. "Gotta bring that fever down." She removed his work boots and pulled the covers back.

"Knew you were always tryin' to get in bed," he mumbled.

She laughed. "All according to plan." She grabbed her bag from underneath the table and dug out some of the medicine she'd taken while salvaging supplies with Rick. They were a bit questionable, but it ought to help a bit. If it progressed, they'd have to get him to the prison. As soon as the sun rose, they'd go. She wouldn't risk him dying, not Daryl. "Here."

"Ain't takin' that. Don't need to. Just the damn fireplace."

"Daryl, take this now."

He took the disgusting liquid. "Happy?"

"Be happier if you weren't sick, but yes." She set her hand on his forehead then his cheeks. He was warm, but not hot. She noticed his eyes slightly close at her touch. "Lizzie and I'll make breakfast. Try to rest."

He rolled away from her and closed his eyes.

She closed the door and woke Lizzie. They cut up the peaches with the non-weapon knifes and spared of the water to make it into a soup for Daryl, just in case he couldn't stomach it. They'd only been in there for an hour or two, but Daryl already seemed weaker, and Lizzie observed as Carol held it up to him so he could drink it.


	2. Chaos

Daryl had continued to get worse, Lizzie had the car ready with pillows and blankets so he would be comfortable, and lots of rags just in case it got bloody, and Carol had gone to get some water. When she returned, she boiled it and used some for drinking and some for cooling him down once the water got cold. Lizzie was packing the last few things in the car, Carol wiped away more sweat from his brow, trying to wake him up, but he was in and out of consciousness at that point.

He began to cough; Carol sat him up and used the moist cloth to cover his mouth. No blood came up, but he was too pale for her comfort.

"Let's get you back to the prison." She stroked his hair. "You have to stand up. Lean on me."

His eyes opened a bit. "Ain't gonna let a cold best me."

She smiled. "Good. Hate to see a glorified cold best you." She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "All right. Stand—"

"Carol!" Lizzie ran into the room. "You gotta come see this! Now!"

Daryl tried to join them, but Carol made him stay, and he could barely stand to make an argument. They went to the living room; Lizzie pulled the curtain back and showed Carol she saw. Outside the window were a group of men, and not a search party group of men. They were more like a group of raging alcoholic rapists who probably loot and murder for fun. She'd hidden her car behind the house with branches and a few loose clothes, but the door wasn't made of steel. They would get in here, searching for food, clothes, water, bullets, women, men and children.

"Shit." She overheard their conversation, but only bits and pieces. They were going to get a few more men then come back and check out the houses. Four men would stay, and four men would go. They positioned themselves at the exit of town with heavy artillery. The four men left and the others broke up: two would be at the exit and two would watch the houses for any movements, but mostly, they were gonna screw around until the others returned. Two of the men left to go for food, so that just left the two that were the furthest away from the house she'd picked.

"Okay, let's get Daryl to the car."

They hurried to his room; Carol threw the blankets back, shoved his shoes on as gently and quickly as she could and helped him out of the bed. He could barely walk, but he did his best as to lessen her burden. She wasn't physically strong, just working on mentally and emotionally. Lizzie opened the door; Carol eased him into the backseat of the car, moving his legs to be able to shut the door silently. She cracked the windows so he would have air, and then she bit her lip and decided now was a good of time as any to teach Lizzie how to shoot a gun. They went the second floor, Carol wished Daryl was consciousness enough to shoot, but that would be asking for too much. She pushed that to back of her mind and focused on the men. They were smoking, making light conversation, and she shot the one in the cap in the back of the head then quickly tried for the other, but it missed and hit the car. He took cover and the others were probably running back.

She and Lizzie waited as the men scrambled back into the town, Carol shot on in the thigh, Lizzie mostly missed, so she told her to stop and just look out for walkers and men. Carol couldn't get the other two as they hide behind the cars, the other bleeding and screaming in the street, ring the dinner bell basically.

"Walkers!" Lizzie exclaimed. "A lot of walkers."

"Get to the car." She pulled the gun back inside and dismantled it. "Go!"

Lizzie hesitated, but went to the car, and climbed into the passenger seat. "Daryl? Oh, God, Daryl?"

He turned his head. "Carol?"

She shook her head. _Not dead. He's not dead._ "She's coming."

Carol exited the house and cleared off the remaining branches. Gunfire filled the small town; Carol started the car and drove into the wooded area. Lizzie buckled up and Daryl gripped the back of the seat as much as he could. She pulled into the road once they were clear of the gunshots. She quickly headed away from there, toward the prison.

As the drive went on Daryl coughed more and more, groaning and Carol tried to slow down, but he demanded she not pity him. Or that what they thought he said. It was a bit garbled. Carol's only hope of him surviving was that he wasn't coughing up blood. She drove faster and finally...Daryl couldn't take much more, so she pulled over and soaked a cloth with water and placed it on his face. She was partly straddling his lap as she did it, Lizzie keeping an eye out for walkers, and Daryl relished in the coolness of the cloth, but it only worked so far. He was so jacked up on expired medicine his eyes were dilated. She couldn't exactly stop feeding it to him. It seemed to be helping.

"Okay, Lizzie, could you hand a few dry clothes?" She wiped his brow off and rested the cloth as his neck, Lizzie handed her a few clothes, and she wiped the sweat off his skin and brushed his bangs back.

His blue eyes met hers. He spoke incoherently, but she made out, "Always pictured this... Never with you on top, but...still."

She blushed slightly and shook her head. It's the fever talking. She reached for a bottle of water from the trunk and saw just how many walkers had taken notice of them. "Shit." She turned to Lizzie. "Get in the driver's seat."

"What?!"

"Do it now!"

She climbed over and gripped the wheel, palms sweating. "Now what?" She turned the key in the ignition and looked back at Carol.

"Push the right pedal."

She nodded and used the right pedal; the car lurched forward, and she gasped, heart pounding. Oh, God.

"Keep pushing it, Lizzie."

Lizzie pushed it and drove, gripping the wheel with a white knuckle grip.

"Turn!" Carol cried as she gripped the seat.

"Okay." She turned the corner sharply, Carol was lurched forward, and Daryl hit his head on the window, but Carol's breasts softened the next blow when they threw back. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"Damn, kid." Daryl coughed. "Don't needa concussion."

"Keep it steady, Lizzie." Carol felt sick to her stomach. Thank God she won't have road rage. Be scared to see that. She tended to Daryl's sweat once more then told Lizzie to slow down. They stopped once the walkers were gone, Lizzie jumped out of the car to get some air, and Carol dislodged her leg from Daryl's and the seat to move and get out of the backseat.

Daryl grasped her hips, she met his eyes, and he tightened his grip on her pants, trying to pull her closer. She complied; he grasped her cheek in his rough hand and brought her in for a sloppy kiss. She was stunned that he'd done that, and when she pulled back, he opened his eyes. "Didn't wanna die without doin' that at least once."

"You're not going to die," she assured him. "We'll get you back to the prison, and then we'll see just how much you'll want to do that when you don't die." She smiled softly then climbed out of the car. Lizzie got back in, and Carol drove to the prison. She saw Maggie and Rick in the yard, he narrowed his eyes at her, and Maggie ran to open the fence. She got out of the car once it was parked, and Rick went off.

"I told you not to come back!" he growled. "Why are you here? To return Lizzie? After you kidnapped her."

"Can't kidnap your own child," she snapped. "And it's Daryl. He's sick."

Rick paled and looked into the backseat. "Maggie, get Hershel and clear a cell now!" He opened the door and helped Carol lift him out of the car, Rick took most of his weight, but Carol wasn't letting him go. Lizzie ran to open the doors, and they carried him into an abandon room of the prison, Hershel set up an IV, Maggie brought him the fresh pillows, and Rick tried to make Carol leave, but she wouldn't, not until she knew he would be all right.

––

"Persistent, isn't she?" Hershel commented to Rick as Carol sat beside Daryl's bedside, watching him fight off the flu.

"Hasn't left for a second," Maggie agreed. "She won't even eat. I doubt she sleeps."

"Yeah, I know." Rick turned to him. "Is Tyreese back from that run with Michonne?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Good. I want you to empty that car, bring her stuff down here, and keep Tyreese away from her until Daryl's better. She won't leave until then." He stepped back. "Lock the door too, and keep an eye on her. Just in case."

"Right." Maggie glanced at her father then went to clean out the car.

Carl met Maggie at the car. "Carol's back?"

"For now. It's temporary. Daryl's sick, and she won't leave his side." She gathered up all the used clothes to be burned. "Why?"

"I was just curious." He glanced over. "Ty isn't back yet. He probably won't find out."

"Unless someone opens their mouth." She shouldered Daryl's crossbow and Carol's bag, making sure no weapons were inside. "Better safe than sorry." She handed him a bag. "Give this to my dad." She grabbed the last bag and headed back to where Daryl was recovering, Hershel was on watch, and she left the bags just inside the door, and set a hand on his shoulder before leaving.

––

Okay. There were a lot of things Daryl Dixon could get away with. Venting about Sophia by blaming Carol, pushing her away, blow off her teasing and leaving her with a half-relaxed pain in her shoulder, passing by the cell she was desperately trying to get out of, but not under any condition could he kiss her and die! He would get better, even if she got sick and died herself, she needed to know why.

––

Stiff. That's what she felt. Completely and utterly stiff. She wasn't hungry, wasn't really that tired, but she was worried about Daryl. He hadn't become lucid yet. He was just breathing in shallow breaths and his eyelids would flutter every once in a while. She kept a hold of his rough hand and willed him to get better. Hershel came in from time to time to check in on him, Carol would thank him each time, and he would offer her a cup of tea sometimes or a small helping of food, but she turned down everything, never taking her eyes off him. He had to get better. He said so him.

_ You alright?_

_ I'm worried about Lizzie and Mika. They were exposed to this. You okay?_

_ Mmm-hmm. Gotta be._

_––_

Those words played over and over in her mind as the days went by. It'd been a total of three days, Hershel and Maggie and Carl switched out shifts, but she didn't care. They weren't there to her, only Daryl. She refused to give up, to leave his side. He was there when no one else was for her, and she would do the same for him, even if she got sick too. After that kiss, she just might be, but the kiss was still her main focus. Daryl Dixon, the guy who pushed everyone away, blew off her romantic suggests as jokes, had kissed her. She wouldn't let him die.

She stood up and crawled onto the bed on day six, fitting herself between the wall and him, pushing her fingers though his shaggy hair. "Daryl," she kept her voice soft, like before, when she wasn't...as strong. "You gotta wake up. You can't go into that silent goodnight. I will not let you leave like this, Daryl Dixon. Do you hear me? I refuse to let you die like this." Her voice broke. "Please, Daryl, I'm not going to let you pull away, not this time. Open your eyes. I'm begging you to open your eyes."

Nothing.

––

She woke up beside him, and for a quick second saw his beautiful blue eyes then they snapped shut. She yawned into her palm and pushed herself up. She teased, "If my shirt were to come off, would that motivate you?"

"Possibly."

She smiled. "You're awake."

His eyes slowly opened. "Mornin'."

"You wish." She fought back another yawn, tears rising in her eyes. "It's nighttime. You must be hungry. I'll see if Hershel can get you something. I'm not allowed to leave this room yet."

He grasped her wrist. "Not so fast."

"What is it?"

He started to speak, but a groan escaped his lips first.

"Let me get Hershel." She climbed over him and knocked on the glass, he came in and tended to him, Carol set her hand over her elbow, her thumb to her lips, and Maggie entered with a tray. Her face lit up when she saw Daryl was lucid. Carol watched Daryl closely as Hershel removed the IV, Maggie caught the look Daryl shared with Carol, and she set the tray on the table by his bed, waiting for her father.

"It's good to have you back." Hershel smiled at Daryl.

"Can't say it's good to be back. Damn dear died on the way here. That little girl can't drive." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Y'all right?"

Carol nodded. "I'm fine. Lizzie too."

He nodded. "Thanks," he told Hershel.

"There's nothing better to do," he mused then met Maggie at the door. "When you have your strength, you should get some fresh air."

"Come on, Daddy." Maggie started up the hall, Hershel following her, glancing at the two before slipping out of sight.

"You scared me," Carol admitted, not wanting a silence between them. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Cold ain't gonna kill me." He dropped a foot to the floor, his boots thudding as they fell off the bed. "Ty know we're back yet?" He fitted his feet into the wearing leather of the boots.

"Not that I know of. No one's tried to kill me, so I doubt it." She shifted a bit and met his eyes, a bit nervous to finally have this talk.

He narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' you ain't telling me?"

"Hmm?" She searched his eyes. Did...he not remember what happened in the car? As much as a shock as it was, it shouldn't have been. He was so doped up on medicine and the flu, and he probably was thinking nonsense. If he didn't remember, then what he was thinking when he kissed her? Did he mean it or was he thinking of someone...else? Michonne, perhaps? They have had certain energy about that. He was really out of it then. "It's nothing, just nerves."

Walking over to the tray, she found an assortment of vegetables, a broth that didn't look very appetizing, but Daryl would eat it, and two cups of red tea. She handed him the bowl and spoon. "You need to gather your strength."

He ignored the spoon, she wondered why she'd even offered it, and he drank it. Once he finished, she handed him the plate of vegetables, he stood up and ate two cucumbers and handed the plate back to her. "Eat."

"No, you need your strength."

"I ain't weak, and I sure as hell ain't pregnant, you're gonna eat 'em." He dropped the plate in her hand and ate the the two cucumbers then went over to the door, leaning against the frame. "How long you been here?"

"A few days." She ate a celery sticks, sitting on the cot across from his. "Should you be standing?"

"I'm fine." He glanced out the window. "Seen my crossbow anywhere?"

She nodded toward the pile of bags that Maggie and Carl had brought in, both of them avoiding breathing in and quickly rushing out, just to be safe, though he may not have been contagious.

He rifled through bags and found his crossbow, shouldering it. "Feel like takin' a walk?"

She nibbled on a celery stick then met his eyes. "I'm not welcome here. Now that you're better... I should get Lizzie and Mika."

"I told you already. We're gonna vote. The council—"

"Daryl!" Maggie ran into the room. "Carol! Come quick! The fence gave out!"

Carol shot up, the plate shattered on the floor, and Daryl was already running up to the courtyard, Maggie and Carol followed, Maggie surrendered a knife to Carol, and they joined the others as the walkers stumbled and crowded around the last gate, Rick and Daryl were on the south-facing fence, Michonne and Tyreese were outside the fence, Maggie and Glenn to the west, Hershel and a few Woodbury survives who were left took part of the middle. Carol saw Lizzie with them and went to aid them.

Growls and moans filled the air, the smell of rotting meat was all around, and their grunts were escalating as the horde at the fences got worse. Michonne had managed to get inside, but the fence stared to cave, they all piled on and took out the cluster blocking the gate. There were too many, everyone could see that, and they were only going to draw more by using guns. Their safe haven was no longer safe. Their walls were falling down before his eyes. Rick stumbled back for a moment, staring at his fear realized, and Daryl shouted at him to do something. Rick couldn't break down now, he gripped his blade and thought of his children. He didn't give up on the bent-up fence before them, and he used went faster at thrusting the rusted metal into the forehead of the dead in front of him, Daryl followed suit, and the others kept at it.

Thankfully, they had gotten back some of the ill, so they assisted in protecting their home. The walkers' bodies were piled up on the fence, a group went out to move them so they could reinforce it with wood and metal, and Carol was a part of that team as Carl and Lizzie were sent to check on the others. Carol and Bod moved bodies onto the wood Rick and Maggie had chopped up, Daryl and Michonne were finishing off the stragglers, Rick and Glenn and Sasha made sure the wood was stable and fence sturdy and Hershel left to check in on Beth and Judith.

Carol moved the decaying body of a young child and noticed a familiar face beneath it. She tossed the child aside and moved a few more bodies, tugging on the shirt, Bob helped her pull the body out, and Bob's eyes shut tightly as they uncovered the gnawed on body of Tyreese. Carol's lips twisted, but she unsheathed her knife and made sure he wouldn't be coming back.


	3. Solitary

Rick struck a match and caught the bodies on fire, Carol and Sasha stood away from the group, Glenn and Maggie were standing close by Michonne and Rick, and Rick looked over at Carol as she watched the fire consume the bodies of the dozen walkers that were piled up. He then shifted his wary eyes to the fence. He felt more exposed each time a wall came down, and it was only a matter of time before all of the walls came down. Soon, they would have to run. Perhaps they should be looking for a new home, along with supplies. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. First a herd, a mad man, then another herd and the Governor then this flu and now yet another herd. It always came back to that, to the walkers trying to claim what belonged to the living. How much longer could they stay here? The days felt limited.

—

Carol checked in on Lizzie and Mika, Lizzie ran to her and hugged her, not having seen her since the attack, and Mika tentatively went over and hugged her too. Carol broke the hug and crouched down, a hand on Mika's right arm and Lizzie's left. Daryl had convinced Rick to let the council decide what to do with her, but she had other plans. She'd let go of the prison when Rick told her to leave. She couldn't just fit right back. They'd keep a constant eye on her, treat her differently, and she wasn't sure it was worth it. The prison wasn't safe anymore. That last wall would fall soon, and she wasn't going to be here when it did. Hopefully, neither would Lizzie or Mika.

"I don't have much time to talk," she began, "but I had to check in on you. Are you all right?"

Lizzie nodded. "We're fine. What about you?"

"I'm okay." She glanced behind her, but no one was there. "Listen, girls. Your father asked me to take care of you, and I promised I would. The prison is no longer safe, and I promised him I would keep you both safe."

Mika paled.

"Are we gonna go back to that house?" Lizzie asked.

"No. No, we're not. We'll find somewhere...else. Safe." They'd probably be on the road for a long time—months maybe—before they find somewhere safe. It would be better than staying. If the walls fall in the middle of the night, they could all die. It'd be like having another Patrick, only this time the children wouldn't make it. No one would. They had to leave, because of what she did, and because Rick still sees those walls as protection, even for a little while. She had to take them out of there, but before they left...

"Lizzie, could you give me a moment alone with Mika?"

Lizzie exchanged a look with her little sister then nodded and left the room.

"This is about me not coming before," Mika murmured, "isn't it?"

"Are you afraid too?" She searched her eyes.

She dropped her head, but didn't reply.

She gripped the young girls' shoulders and made her look at Carol's face. "You can't afford to be afraid, Mika. You can _never_ give up. You can't let this world beat you. Do you understand me?"

She slowly nodded.

"Okay. Good." She reached around and grasped the small knife from her belt, holding it out to her, but Mika shook her head vigorously. "Mika. Mika, you have to take this. You can't protect yourself without it. Lizzie and I won't always be around when you need us to be. Take this knife and keep it within reach at all times."

Mika took the knife in her small hand, swallowing hard.

"Do you remember what I taught you?"

"Yes."

"Don't ever forget it." She stood up. "I'm going to check on a few things, you and your sister should gather your things, and I'll be back to get you." She left without another word, Lizzie watched her walk by, and she went to see where Rick had moved her car. She found it in the back, the keys under the mat, and she gathered her belongings from the room where Daryl was kept. She loaded them in the back of the car, wondering just how many times she'll have to do this.

"Where're you goin'?" that deep Southern voice almost startled her.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Away."

"We haven't even met to talk about this yet." He stared at her with cautious, narrow eyes.

"I already know what the final decision will be, and it's not exactly safe here." She leaned into the truck and grabbed up four empty jugs she'd fill with water before they left. She turned, Daryl was right behind her, and she stopped. "I don't need permission."

"Why're you so eager to leave?"

"Why are you so eager to see me stay?" she challenged.

He didn't respond. His tongue was thick in his mouth, and he knew this was the make it or break it moment. He tried to say what he felt, but those emotions didn't reach words, and she was starting to stare at him. Hell, he'd rather fend off a horde of walkers than be in this conversation. Damn woman's so persistent.

She squinted in the sunlight then stepped by him to get the water, he instinctively grasped her elbow, she dropped the jugs from the force, and she sighed. "Daryl, let me go. I have to hurry. Mika and Lizzie are just as anxious to get out of here as I am."

He faced her. "You'll just die out there."

"Do you really think so little of me?" she demanded. "I can protect myself. I was fine before you came and got sick and forced me and Lizzie back here. You've put us in more danger than I have."

"It ain't safe."

"Where is safe?" she asked. "Hmm? There's nowhere that's safe anymore, and sooner rather than later, those walls are gonna come crashing down. I don't want to be here when that happens."

He was silent.

"Do you even trust me?" She had to know. Rick didn't. The other probably didn't either. She wasn't expecting them to.

"'Course. Ain't even a question."

She nodded. "You have your code, and I have mine." She set a hand on his forearm. "I have to take care of Lizzie and Mika, do right by them and you have to stay here. You have to protect this group." She began to pick up a jug when he spoke.

"Just 'cause you killed two people, you think you're badass enough to survive this world alone? Hell, Lizzie's feelin' sorry for walkers, and Mika can't even hold a knife. Why send them out there? You might as well burn 'em too."

She slapped him across the face hard enough to make her once-delicate hand sting, the sound of her hand colliding with his cheek echoed around them, and he didn't even blink. The memory of him going off on her about Sophia, lunging in a threatening way that made her flinch. He had the same look in his eyes. She was too angry to care. He deserved it.

He glad to get a reaction out of her. Angry was good. If you get mad enough, you just break down. He knew this well as a child. He could bring her back if pushed the right buttons. He knew her better than she knew, and he knew just how to push her buttons. He wouldn't do anything other than convince her to stay then he would talk about his angry at her for killing their own. First her angry then this. That's how it goes—him last.

She tried to hit him again, but he caught her hand...then her other hand and gently pushed her back.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded. "Honestly?"

"Honesty."

She waited. Was he going to say anything else?

"Please, don't go," was all he said.

She glared and tried so very hard to be angry, to keep her cold armor on, but sooner or later ones true face is revealed, and in that moment, she didn't care about anything. All of her ice began to melt, and maybe for a moment, she didn't have to bring it back. She was jaded with guilt and angry and killing the walkers with every she had pint up did not help at all. She was burned down to just Carol. She met his eyes, and this Carol he knew. "You want honesty?"

He gave a nod.

She searched his beautiful blue eyes and saw just how worried she'd made him, just how much he cared for her, even if he could never say it. After everything they'd been through... They shared a similar past, but they embraced it differently, and she knew just how hard it was for him to lose someone else by their own choosing, especially when it could be stopped. There was one way to stop her, and she knew it would stop her. It scared her that it _could_ come to that, and it scared her that she could go off and die without ever having even tried. She didn't want to push him. Also, you _couldn't_ push Daryl Dixon. She'd learned that when she forced him into the group, and with all that had happened, it worked, because sometimes a good push is all someone really needs. With a world like this, it was stupid to wait this long to see if it could work, to see if he would respond. It was now or never, and there were no in betweens.

Taking in all of the bravery she'd gathered up over the months, she stepped closer, he tensed up, even those his eyes showed he was searching for any threats on the gate just behind them. Her fingers lightly touched his forearm, the muscles seemingly shifted beneath her palm, the warm leather felt nice against her skin. Her blue eyes locked in his. She'd taken quite a few risks these past few days, and she was talking a mighty big one right now.

As she leaned up on the tips of her toes, Daryl was completely rigid, and when her lips touched him, he let out a whimper. It was a sound of fear and uncertainty. She let her lips linger on his for a moment, savoring the taste of his mouth, the feel of his lips, the way they curved. She pulled back and never moved her eyes from his. She didn't say anything, didn't move, and just watched him.

They stood there for a very long, very silent moment, and Daryl finally moved. His eyes moved to meet her, and he grasped her face in both of his hands, surprising her, and brought his mouth down on hers. His hands were warm and rough and large on her small face, her hands rested on his hips, grasping the worn leather of his jacket, holding him in place. At first, his kiss was tentative, but as his mouth melted against her, he kissed her harder. She could taste dirt on his lips, but having gone through what he had, she wasn't surprised he hadn't showered, and she kinda like it. His lips were slightly chapped, but warm and more commanding than she had expected. She hadn't expected him to be this assertive, but she kinda loved it.

—

Rick watched Carol and Daryl argue, hidden just inside the door, and his eyes narrowed as Carol kissed him. It was a long-sought kiss, and he was...happy for them, but under the circumstances, he wished she'd have waited until the council had met or never killed Karen and David to begin with. He shook his head and left them to their moment, going to gather the others.

—

They pulled back from God only knows how many kisses, both breathing heavily, lips still humming from the touch. They locked eyes and let out a chuckle, Carol covered her mouth, and Daryl saw more of the woman she used to be. Daryl grasped the hand she held up to her mouth and just squeezed it tightly, reassuringly, and she nodded slightly.

Their moment was over once they entered the prison; Carol released his hand as Rick called to them from their makeshift dining area, the one they used back when it was just the ten of them. Everyone was there—Glenn, Sasha, Maggie, Hershel, Michonne and Daryl. She stood, even though Rick politely offered her a seat. As for the others, Maggie was pacing behind Glenn, who was standing with his arms crossed, watching her, studying her, Hershel sat, Michonne leaned against the back wall, and Sasha sat on the steps. Rick blocked the other door, so she couldn't run, not that she wanted to.

"So, you killed David and Karen?" Sasha spoke first, her eyes cold from the loss of her big brother, but a fire rose up behind them as angry surged through her. The woman who caused her brother to become so unsteady was living while he was dead. She wasn't sure who to be angrier at. Her brother for allowing his emotions to lead him to that end, for leaving her here alone, or this woman who's been taking care of her since they arrived. This woman who seemingly couldn't harm a fly. _Appearances, appearances._

"Yes," she replied. "I killed David and Karen to stop the disease from spreading."

"Obviously didn't work," she shot back.

"Sasha," Hershel warned.

"I'm just sayin' what everyone else is thinkin'." She rested her elbows on her knees, her chin on the folded fingers to keep from harming anyone.

"So, you killed them," Glenn clarified his understanding, "to stop it from spreading, not to just callously kill them, right?" He glanced around. "Last time one of us killed someone, he went bat shit crazy. Just tryin' keep that from happening again." He sat beside Hershel, and Maggie set a hand on his shoulder, knowing how hard this was on him. How can you sit down and chose how to punish one of your family for trying to protect everyone, even though it involved killing two people that were in that family? Can anyone win this battle? Humans always kill humans, now humans kill walkers and humans still continue to kill humans. When the world goes to hell, people go with it.

He sighed and grasped Maggie's hand.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," she admitted. "I did what I did to protect...everyone, and just because I killed them doesn't mean I liked it. I didn't, but mooning over it isn't helpin' anyone. I'm sorry for the events that my killing them caused." She paused. "I'll accept whatever punishment you decide. There's nothing more I can say."

A muscle shifted in Rick's jaw.

They all discussed what would be worthy punishment, because there was no way they could send her off, not with the walkers ringin' the doorbell. Rick wasn't in the council to be able to decide and a few of them were still salty from him deciding that on his own when he repeatedly told them "**we** decide, not me". They came up with a reasonable punishment: two weeks of solitary confinement with no weapons whatsoever. She was to go there right away. It was across from the same room where Daryl was held. While they were in the meeting, they'd taken her belongings there, so she walked down there with Rick and Daryl. Rick took up any knives she had on her, and he waited outside with this back to them as Daryl got the last weapon.

"Tell Lizzie and Mika." How many times has she made that girl pack just to unpack? She handed him her favorite knife.

"'Course." He grasped the brass knuckle knife. His narrows were found hers. "'Bout what happened earlier, I'd like to talk about it."

"Two weeks," she reminded him. "But you might be on watch, and we can talk through the door."

"Got it all planned out?"

She laughed. "No. No, this is the last thing I thought I would ever have to plan," she confessed. "I mean that in a good way."

"Do you?" he whispered softly, almost inaudibly.

"I do. In the best way." She leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll see you soon?"

He nodded once then exited the room, Rick glanced back at him then started for the door, Daryl caught her eye and offered her a half-smile, and she smiled, watching them leave. Once alone, she sighed and sat down on the bed. She slid back until her back came against the wall and closed her eyes. Two weeks alone in here. It wasn't a fair punishment, but what more could they do?

_Day One:_

Maggie had the first watch, which consisted of watching Carol stare at the walls as she had nothing to read. They boredly sat in silent as the others worked on reinforcing the fence and positioning the cars and sorting the rations and medication. She could hear them scurrying about above her, but she couldn't sleep. She began to pick at the sleeve of her button-up shirt, having all the time in the world to think about what she'd done.

Day Two:

Glenn was reading one of the books he'd grabbed from the library, his eyes drifting to Carol every now and then. He was exhausted from his previous watch, but Daryl, Michonne and Rick had gone out to get some scrap metal and more wood, and Maggie was feeding the kids with Beth, and Hershel was keeping watching with Carl. His eyes kept drooping, and the book slipped from his hand as he rested, and he jolted awake, seeing Carol at the door, pounding on it, growling, and blood coming from her eyes and mouth and nose.

"Ah!" He panted and his eyes snapped open as Carol coughed once into her fist, rolling onto her side. He swallowed and watched her. Was she sick now too? Being locked in that room with Daryl probably didn't help her. He picked up his bottle of water, unlocked the door, slid it inside and locked the door again, returning to his seat.

She looked over and picked it up. Twisting off the cap, she drank heavily from it, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and swallowing the delicious cool water. She wanted to thank him, but he was lost in his book. She saw the titled and now knew why he kept passing out. She could barely keep awake to that boring novel they made her read when _she_ was in school.

_Day Four:_

Carl watched her with his father's crisp blue eyes, his eyes were trained on her every movement, and she kept pacing back and forth in the small room, shaking her hands, trying to calm down. She crouched down, hands on the back of her neck and tried to inhale.

_Blood_. The scent of blood rushed into her nostrils, the sound of coughing echoed in her ears, and she felt dizzy. She lied down on the cool floor, placing her face against the cement, and she rested for a moment, but the screams woke her up. She felt sweat dripping down her forehead, and she wiped it away with the sleeve of her shirt. She closed her eyes and begged the sounds to stop.

_Thud. Thud. **Thud!**_ The sound of fists repeatedly being pounded into an innocence man's face filled the room, she covered her eyes, memories of that other woman playing in her head, the man whose face she hadn't cared to lay eyes on kept flickering in her mind, and she finally couldn't hold it in anymore. She screamed. Loud, long and desperate.

Daryl and Rick moved another massive plate of metal against the fence to hold it steady, and Sasha and Michonne moved the wood into place. Maggie and Glenn were keeping watch, which meant that Bob was really keeping watch, and Daryl didn't like that one bit. He didn't like or trust Bob. If anything, he was a bigger risk than Tyreese was. His mind began to wander to Carol and her kiss.

_That's what "love" does to a man_, Merle's husky voice chimed in his head. _Ya can't trust no woman, little brother. They a vicious breed. Lead ya on, make you think it's worth, but it ain't. It never is, little brother. It never is._

"Tsk." He shook his head.

A bloodcurdling scream tore through the as peaceful as it gets prison, Rick shot off inside the prison, Daryl followed, along with Sasha and Michonne. By the time they found the source of it, it was just Mika. A spider had gotten into her room, and she clinging to Lizzie, begging her to kill it. They laughed at her, relieved no one was hurt, but Daryl felt unnerved. He didn't laugh. He felt like something was wrong, deep in his gut. He had an impulse to check on Carol, but Rick asked him to help with the last portion of gate. He followed Rick out and shook the feeling off.


	4. Rules

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or Hyundai. I will post more after these two chapters shortly. Tell me what you think, please and thank you.**

_Day Nine_

Daryl had finally had enough of Rick's decision to see who would watch Carol and went himself. He found her unconscious on the ground, covered in sweat, and from the look of it, she wasn't breathing. He shouted to Hershel and rushed into the room. He carefully touched her—she was ice cold.

Hershel came in and bent down, taking her wrist in his hand, feeling out a pulse. It was week. "Get my bag." He rolled up his sleeve.

Daryl grabbed the bag from the cell block and returned as Hershel propped her head up some pillows. "What's happened to her?" he demanded. "Why didn't nobody say somethin'?"

"Carl was on watch last. I don't know why he didn't tell anyone." He rifled through the bag. "Here, move her onto the bed."

He gently picked up her small body and placed her onto the bed, cradling her head as he added the pillow from the floor to the pile. He set her head down slowly, and he looked at Hershel. "What's takin' so long?"

He grasped Carol's arm and slid the sleeve of her shirt down, injecting her with a sedative. "This'll do for now."

"For now? What the hell does that mean?" Daryl searched his face. "What? You ain't got the right meds? We raided that vet school. How the hell you outta meds?"

"It's not that simple. We had a lot of cases of flu, and this is different. I'll look over her. You should find some kind of broth we can get in her. Doubt she's eaten at all."

He was reluctant, but left. She'd lost weight from whatever the hell happened to her in here. He went to Rick to see who was on watch, and he discovered it was Carl. He found the child in the admissions building, sharping his blade, talking to Beth as she cared for Judith. "Hey, short round."

Carl stopped laughing and turned to the five foot ten man coming his way. "Yeah?"

"Hey, Daryl." Beth smiled warmly and finished Judith's diaper.

He gave a nod in her general direction. "You and me needa have a talk."

"What about?" Carl crossed his arms.

"Carol."

"What about Carol?" He seemed confused.

"Why the hell didn't you tell no one she was sick?" he demanded. "Huh?"

"She was sick?" He wasn't sure how to feel. She did kill two of their own in cold blood, so maybe this was her actual punishment: death. "I didn't know," he admitted. "All she did was pace back and forth, so I let her do it. She was sleeping on the floor, so I left there. I didn't think anything of it."

"Humph."

"Why do you care?" Carl asked softly as Beth tried to drag words out of Judith's mouth. "This could be her punishment. God, you know. She believes in that stuff."

"It ain't God. It's just a cold." He lowered his face toward the child. "The next time you forget to tell someone 'bout her health, I will personally stomp your ass, kid or no."

Carl sighed. "Fine." He didn't want to admit that he'd been reading the comics that Michonne had found while out with Tyreese instead of actually watching Carol. "I promise to keep my eye on her the next time I watch her."

"Good." He left the admissions building and found Hershel and Rick talking. "How she doin'?"

"Not well. She has a fever and can't stomach solids or liquids, which means we have to set up an IV to get medicine in her," Hershel explained. "She needs an inhaler, but we don't have one."

"An inhaler? Where could we find one?" Daryl asked, arms crossed.

"Karen's son was asthmatic." Sasha stepped out of the shadows. "Always had an inhaler to spare." She squinted in the sunlight. "Back in Woodbury, there's a few there."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "I'll make a run to get them now. I'd like to keep myself...busy." She didn't want to think about Tyreese, and she'd done as many of the chores as she could. She wasn't fond of helping the woman drove her brother to his death, but she had to keep them strong, all of them, and Carol was one of them. Anything to contribute.

"Meet me by the gate in ten minutes," Daryl told her, walking away.

"Daryl." Rick caught up to him and parked himself in Daryl's path. "You can't go."

"She needs an inhaler, I gotta get it."

"No." Rick held his arm out in front Daryl's body to stop him from walking. "No, you have to stay." He remembered the words Lori had said to him when Carl was shot, and he needed to do the same for Daryl now. In this world, a mere cold could kill anyone, and Carol was anybody.

Daryl eyed him.

"Carol is sick—weak. You need to be there for her. If she wakes up, you need to be the first one she sees. If she... If she dies, you need to be there."

"She ain't gonna die. She needs me to get that inhaler, not sit with my thumbs up my ass."

"Can you really walk away from her now?" Rick got in his face, his angry flaring at the memories, at how he left things with Lori. It wasn't the same, but it could've been. "Do you really think she wants you to run off now? After what happened in the courtyard, you think she won't wanna see you first?"

Daryl's eyes hardened. He didn't think anyone saw that.

"Michonne and Sasha will get the inhaler," Rick continued. "All right?"

His lip twitched and he slowly nodded. "Fine."

Rick watched him turn on his heel and walk towards Carol's cell, Rick gave a nod to Sasha, who was standing nearby, and she nodded back, going to get a bag and Michonne. Rick met Hershel's eyes then turned and walked away.

––

Michonne and Sasha readied a car, Daryl leaned against the wall as they did, and Michonne closed the trunk. She walked over to him, Sasha got into the passenger side, and Daryl straightened up when Michonne stopped in front of me.

"I'll get the inhaler. Don't worry," she assured him.

"I know. Appreciate it." He squinted at her. "Carol too."

"We'll be back soon."

He nodded and headed back inside, Rick came out as he went in, but he was going to Carol's room, and Rick was climbing into the car with Michonne and Sasha.

He peered in at her through the glass; Lizzie was on the bed across from her, legs pulled up to her chest, eyes glued on Carol, hardly blinking, so he went inside.

She blinked and looked at him then back to Carol. "She hasn't moved. Her breaths are shallow."

"I know." He sat beside her.

"Is she gonna die?" She looked up at him.

"No, 'course not. She's tough."

She averted her eyes. "Mom was tough too, and she still..." she dropped off and exhaled deeply. She rubbed her arm and watched Carol. "So...you like Carol?"

Daryl blinked. _Did everyone know? Rick was probably hidden, but on one else was in that courtyard. Who the hell told everyone? _He fought off the ridiculous blush that crept up his neck, and he kept his face unreadable.

"I saw you," she explained, "in the car. It was sweet, what you said, but don't say it again. It made Carol sad, and I don't like to see her sad."

In the car? He decided not to argue with the little girl and just nodded. "All right." He leaned back, propping up his arm on his upraised knee. "So, like outside life?"

Lizzie turned her head to meet his eyes and giggled.

"What?"

"Nothing." She thought it was all very cute. She may be young, but she could see the sparks between Carol and Daryl from day one. Carol just became so focused on protecting us that she never acted on it, but now she has her chance, so she had to get better. She couldn't die and leave her and Mika all alone. She told me she would be fine, and she will be. Daryl's right: Carol's tough. At least someone else wants her around.

––

The still too-familiar drive to Woodbury went quickly, Sasha went off by herself to get the inhaler by herself since she was more independent and didn't want to be bothered with a group behind her, so Rick and Michonne checked some of the houses for any supplies they left behind.

Rick tossed a shirt onto the bed, frustrated, and Michonne glanced at him.

"I would ask if you're okay, but you're obviously not. Wanna tell me what it is?" She found a few toys left behind by the younger children, and she thought instantly of Judith. She grasped a small, cloth doll that was still in good condition, and she eyed it, keeping it out of Rick's line of sight.

"It's nothin'." He looked over the room.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"You make rules, you abide by them, and people do the same." He flexed his hand around his gun. "You try to keep order then all hell breaks loose." He sighed deeply. "And they get off with such an easy break, because the world's...just gone." The world, the rules, the balance—it's all gone. You try to restore it, and it starts to work then it all comes crashing down around you. Shane. Carl. Carol. He wouldn't let them all follow the same path. He was able to bring his son back, but who can bring Carol back? Daryl? Lizzie? Could anyone? Would she ever be the same? No. No one could ever be the same after that. Not even him. (How can his children or any other children grow up in this world and be the people they deserve to be, not who they were forced to be?)

"She'll be fine."

Rick looked over his shoulder. "Hmm?"

She didn't answer, just shouldered her backpack and grasped the handle of her katana. "Anything else you need?"

"No. Not here." He walked out of the room, heading to the front door.

She shook her head and followed him out.

"Do you think she can redeem herself?" Michonne asked, swiping a few comics that Carl would appreciate.

"Carol? Maybe." He thought of her reactions on their run and her reactions with Daryl. She was already changing, but who wasn't? Everyone has to change, and no one stops changing. They're being modified to fit this world. They were always changing. Always. "Only time will tell."

"Still haven't shaved."

He chuckled and rubbed the graying hair on chin. "Can't. It's grown on me."

"It's your battle."

"That it is," he agreed. "That it is."

They met up with Sasha at the car with backpacks in tow full of items—clothing, books, a few puzzle games for the kids—and Sasha her five inhalers. They could hear the growl of walkers behind them, but they didn't bother to fight them. Sasha drove them back to the prison.

––

"Have you lost anyone?" Lizzie asked in her game of fifteen thousand questions. "A mother? A father? A brother or sister? Anyone like that?"

"Yeah. I lost my brother."

"I'm sorry." She leaned back. "Was it his own choice or...did someone kill him?"

Daryl didn't want to answer. He had accepted his brother's death, but the kid had no right to ask or expect an answer. He focused his eyes on Carol, and she began to stir. They slid off the bunk and went over to her, Lizzie lowered herself down on her knees as she rolled over and faced her, and Daryl leaned against the bed frame.

Her eyes slowly opened and landed on Lizzie. "L—" She lurched forward, Daryl grasped her shoulders and Lizzie moved as Carol gagged, covering her mouth. She shrugged his hands off and rushed over to the toilet in the room, puking.

Lizzie and Daryl exchanged glances, she told him to go to her with a nod, but he did the same to her, so she went over to Carol and slightly patted her back. Lizzie felt something odd, something bumpy and long and cold. She slid her palm across Carol's back and felt...an odd protrusion. She was worried, but she didn't say anything, not with Daryl in the room. She didn't want to see him panic over it. He seemed liked the type to get angry to panic.

She groaned and sat back, moving away by a few feet, wiping her mouth.

"Do you feel better?" Lizzie asked.

She shook her head, leaning against the bunk behind her, the metal cold and pressing into her skin. "Should you be in here?" she weakly asked. "I don't know if I'm contagious."

"I'm okay, really." She searched her eyes. "You must be thirsty. I'll get some water." She hopped up and left the room.

She coughed into her hands multiple times, Daryl winced internally each time, and she moaned once she was done, her chest aching. She could barely take in deep breaths or even shallow breaths. She felt like she wasn't getting any air into her head, and that made her dizzy.

Daryl grabbed the half-empty water bottle from his pocket, crouched down and opened it. "Here." He grasped her chin and placed the opening of the bottle into her mouth. She would push it back a bit to swallow and he would pour more into her mouth once she'd swallowed. She finished the bottle and licked water off her lips. "Thank you."

"Save your breath."

She frowned.

"Hershel figured you had bronchitis a while ago." He sat down across from her. "Explains the shallow breathin' and coughin'."

She began to laugh, and it was dangerous, because she could barely draw in breath as it was. Of all the things that happened, she caught bronchitis. She couldn't stop laughing. It was just so hilarious. It's that moment when you realize just how much a situation stinks. She couldn't breathe anymore, and she gasped in air, but it wouldn't reach her lungs.

"Carol?" He shot forward. "Carol?" He didn't know what to do. It was evident she couldn't breathe, but what was he supposed to do?

She managed to get a small breath in, but it wasn't enough. She clutched her chest and tried to take in a deep breath, but it felt as though her airway was smaller than a straw. She grasped his hand tightly and closed her eyes, focusing hard to breathe.

"Daryl." Maggie opened the door as Michonne and Rick walked down the hall, Michonne saw them on the floor and rushed inside, Rick just watched the weak woman struggle to breathe. Michonne acted fast, grabbed the bag from his hands and dug out the inhaler, and she shook it. Uncapping it, she helped Carol to push the medicine tube down. Carol did it twice, taking too deep breath in between each squirt.

Carol coughed and slowly regained the ability to breathe. "Thank...you."

"You're welcome." She exchanged a look with Daryl. "Come up when you're able." She rose and set the inhaler on the table. It was numbered and had about nineteen puffs left. She walked out of the room.

Rick followed, and Maggie closed the door.

"I can really clear a room." She exhaled deeply.

He slid his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. "You oughta rest."

She sank back onto the bed. "I should." It's not as though there's anything else she can do. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Keeping Lizzie company." She smiled at him. "It was kind, especially with her questions."

"It ain't nothing. It was either watch you or let Maggie pass out on the floor again." He shrugged. "She needed her rest."

"I see. Well, tell Maggie not to exhaust herself on my behalf, just lock the door, and I'll be fine. It's not as though I'll kill anyone or myself. Couldn't break that glass." She was joking, but from the look on his face, he didn't like that type of joking. "I wouldn't—"

"Don't say things like that." He opened the door. "Night." He let it shut hard and walked off without a glance back at her.

––

Daryl met the others in the library when Carol was to be released from her cell, Rick wanted someone with her at all times, at least for a while, and everyone agreed. Daryl didn't have say. He was just listening silently, so when it came down to who would do it, they all looked at him. He tuned back in and wondered why they were staring.

"I can do it," Maggie suggested. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure? You've been pushing yourself a lot lately," Glenn softly said. "I can."

"Now we're arguing over who's gonna watch her?" Michonne scoffed slightly. "I'll do it."

"No." Rick shook his head. "We need two people on the gates at all time. I want you in charge of that. Glenn, I need your help with some stuff, some things I need done."

He nodded. "Sure."

"Hell, I'll watch her." Daryl stood up. "It's just one woman. Why y'all actin' like it's some big deal?"

Rick started to object. He needed Daryl on the front line, but Hershel agreed with him.

"Daryl will watch Carol. Who else agrees?"

"I do," Maggie quickly replied.

"Okay," Glenn added.

"All right," Michonne agreed.

He stood up. "I think all has been settled. I'm going to give her a checkup then she can be released."

Daryl nodded.


	5. Keep Singing

Carol watched Hershel as he examined her, he was very silent through the entire checkup, and he left the same way. She stood up and stepped out of the cell. She made a beeline for the exit, going outside, but it was raining. Storming was more like it, but she didn't care. She missed the fresh air and the grass and the sky! She crossed her arms as the rain pounded down on her, lifting her face upward to let the water run down her face. She pushed her hair back as the rain socked through her dirty clothes. It made her really want to take a hot shower too, but no one can have everything.

A booming voice broke her little party out in the rain, and she spun around to find Daryl behind her, dripping wet within seconds.

"What the hell are you doin' out here?"

"Enjoying the fresh air," she shouted over the rain. "You should try it! It's nice!"

"Do you want pneumonia now too?" He closed the space between them. "Huh?"

"It's a possibility, but I'd rather do this." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Their mouths were slippery from the rain, but that didn't matter. Their kiss was so deep, so longing, that the heavy rain that used to feel like penny falling from the skin were now like flower petals, and the icy wind was like a warm breeze.

A moan escaped her lips; Daryl grasped the wet material of her shirt and closed the space between them. Carol slid her fingers through his hair, pushing up on the tips of her toes, allowing her mouth to open to his. She learned another thing about Daryl: He knew how to kiss. He was confident, in fact, and that made her stomach flutter. His tongue caressed her, seizing another moan, and faintly, they heard someone shouting at them to get out of the rain.

They broke apart; Carol pushed his bangs out of his eyes and kissed him once more before heading over to where Glenn was. Glenn waited until they were both inside to laugh that they had finally taken that step. Daryl thwacked him in the back of the head with his knuckles, Glenn laughed even more, and Daryl glared before heading inside to change.

Carol took a much needed shower and scrubbed away the repulsiveness of the cell she was stuck inside then changed into clean...ish clothes. She tugged an extra shirt over hair, the coldness of the rain seeping down inside her bones, and she exited the shower room, ambling around the prison. She made her way into the cell block, Beth was rocking Judith as she fussed, and no one else was around.

"Come on, Judy," Beth begged. "It's all right, just some rain."

"What is it?" She approached her.

"She won't take her bottle," Beth stared, frustrated. "And just keeps cryin', and I'm exhausted." She met her eyes, the young girl had heavy bags under her eyes, and she looked weak. "Could you take her? Just for a minute?"

Rick would never allow her to touch Judith, not after what happened. If Rick saw her, he'd take Judy and do something irrational. So, logically, she took Judy. "Go rest." She took the bottle from her hands.

"Thanks." Beth tugged on Judith's foot then went to her cell and passed out before she could even finish doing whatever she was doing.

Carol set the bottle on the table and rocked Judith on her hip. "Shh. Shh." She lightly ran her fingertips over Judith's back. "Shh."

Judith continued to cry, it reminded her of Sophia, and she tried not to think about her, but she had no choice. She used some of the methods she used on Sophia on Judith, and they were working. She picked up the rubber duck that Maggie had gotten for her, but Judith cried at the sight of it.

"Okay, you hate that." She tossed it aside and sighed. Okay, think, what would make her stop crying? She suddenly remembered Sophia's teething, and she offered Judith her pinkie finger, Judith stopped crying and nibbled on it. "You like that?" She smiled. "Hmm?"

––

Up on the perch, cloaked darkness, Rick watched Carol interact with Judy, and he turned to his right as Daryl gazed down at them as well. Rick gripped the railing and shifted his feet. He shook his head and Daryl walked by him.

Rick still didn't trust her, least of all with Judith. It wasn't as though he thought Carol was gonna kill Judith, but he didn't want her to rub off on her. She was still young, and when she got older, she would be easily influenced by the woman in her life. Maggie and Beth and Michonne and Sasha were all god people, and they would lay down their lives for any of any day, and that is what he wanted his daughter to learn: that even in this cruel world, loyalty and love and blood still matter. No, family—blood—always matter. Carol had a mixed version of that, not the one Judith will absorb from the others.

Daryl stopped in front of her. "Feeding Ass Kicker?"

She looked up. "Not yet. Here." She grasped his hand—which were clean from his shower—and she replaced her pinkie for his. "We should get her a teething ring."

"Probably." His pinkie twitched. "Feels weird."

"It does at first, but you...get used to it." She rubbed her arms, memories creeping up on her. "I'm going to bed." She walked out of the cell block and heard Daryl call to her. She kept walking as she made her way to an abandoned room she found. She closed the door and sat on the bed. She didn't sleep, just watched the door to the cell, watching for anything dangerous.

–––

"She looks awful," Beth commented to Maggie at breakfast. "Her bags are worse than mine."

Maggie looked up. "Yeah." She ate a spoonful of oat.

"Do you think we should tell Daddy? Maybe he can give her something? For insomnia or somethin'?"

She swallowed. "Dad can see for himself. If she wanted help, she would ask." She drank some water. "Don't worry about it, Beth. It's just stress. I'm gonna go on watch." She left, catching up with Sasha.

Beth picked up her bowl and moved over to where Carol sat alone. "Hey." She smiled warmly. "I figured you'd be hungry. Here. I already ate a bit more than the rest of y'all."

"No, thank you."

She frowned. "Are you all right?"

"I haven't been able to sleep, but I'm fine." She forced a smile. "I'm going to lie down for while then I'll do my chores."

"Sure." Beth watched her walk away and sighed. She finished her breakfast and found Rick in the cell block with Judith. "Rick, I need to talk to you."

"What about?" He met her eyes.

"Carol."

"What's she done now?"

"Have you seen her? She looks just awful, and she barely eats. I've seen her give more than half of her food to Lizzie and Mika then the rest to Carl or Daryl or even me. I'm worried about her. Can you talk to her or maybe have Daryl talk to her? It's been goin' on for a week now."

"She's a grown woman. She's dealing with—"

"Fine." She turned on her heel and walked off. "I'll do it myself."

"A little shaky on the dismount, don't you think?" Michonne asked, entering from other room along with Daryl, just relieved from watch.

"She worries too easily," he insisted.

"Who is it now?" Daryl asked. "It ain't Lil' Ass Kicker, and it ain't the short round, so it's gotta be you or Carol." He hadn't been able to catch Carol at all, it seemed. He went the little hovel she claimed as her own, but she wasn't there. He kept trying to find her, but the woman was harder to track in the prison than outside of it. He was concerned.

"It's Carol. She hasn't been sleepin' at all, and she hasn't been eatin'." He shook his head. "Probably just guilt or something."

"Yeah, I'll go see for myself." He went to her hovel, but she wasn't there again. He thought for a moment then when back to the cell block. He found her curled up on his bed, and he slowly entered. She was smaller, for sure, and her eyes had horrible bags. She was sleeping so hard. He pulled a blanket down over her, she shot up, and he held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"Daryl?" She was so tired she couldn't even see straight. He was blurry mass of a human that only with his jacket and hair made it easy for her to tell who he was. "I'm sorry. I just—I'll go."

"Nah, shoulda done this a long time ago." He sat down on the bench behind him and removed his boots.

"Done what?" She blinked rapidly as to clear her vision, but it wasn't working.

"Moved you outta that shit hole." He sat down on the bed and slid behind her on his back, left hand underneath his head, and his right hand on his stomach.

She was surprised by him, and she felt safer with him there, so she fell back asleep, twice as warm as the first time. The memories and the cold were forced out as, unconsciously, Daryl moved closer to her, his arm falling on her hips. She didn't try to move closer, but when she fell asleep, that was a different matter.

––

Beth searched for Carol, but she couldn't find her. She went into the cell block and found Rick and Glenn looking over a map on the perch. She padded up the stairs and started to ask when she heard light snoring. She followed the sound and found Carol and Daryl sleeping heavily, wrapped up in each other. She stepped back and stared at the bottle in her hand, sighing. She goes through all of that trouble to get pills to help her sleep, and Daryl can get her to sleep just by bein' a big blanket? Well, at least she was able to sleep now, and they were kinda adorable too._ Oh well._

Beth returned the pills to Hershel's medical bag then decided to take over Carol's chores for the day, along with her. She brought in fresh water, read to the kids, had a session on knife safety, and then she tended to Judith. She stretched them out over the course of the day, and she and Maggie prepared dinner when Maggie was relieved by Bob and Glenn.

"Did you know?" Beth asked as she chopped vegetables.

"Know what?" Maggie distractedly asked as she set the pan over the fire.

"'Bout Daryl and Carol." Beth squinted in the sunlight. "I didn't even know they were together. When did it happen?"

Maggie paused and turned to her sister. "You didn't know?" She repressed a smile. "Beth, you gotta start spending time with the others."

"So, how long have they been together? Since she got back?"

"I guess." She added a few more sticks. "Why are you so curious?"

"Just askin'." She scraped the chopped zucchini into the pan. "So...have you told Glenn?"

"Beth!" she hissed. "I told you not to talk about it."

"Well, no one's around, and I'm concerned. You keep pushin' yourself. That ain't good for the...you know."

"Beth, enough." She was stern. "Hurry up and put those on the boil. I'm gonna get the squirrels Daryl got." She went inside and dug them out of them bucket of salt. She felt a bit dizzy, and she leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. She shook it off and carried them back to Beth. She began to skin them.

"Judy said her first word," Beth informed Maggie.

"Really? What was it?"

"Guess."

"Beth, you know I hate guessing games."

"It coulda been fun, spoil sport." She received a smile from Maggie. "She said "doll".

"You gotta stop singin' that song to her. It's probably ingrained in her memory."

"What else gets her to sleep? Last thing I ever would wanna hear about is ashes or cradles fallin' outta trees, and hush reminds me of Mom."

"Fine, keep singing what you're singin', but change it up a bit. I've had that song stuck in my head for days."

"Okay, fine." She nudged Maggie with her elbow.

"Just keep chopping, Beth." She finished the squirrel she was on and stood up, meeting Glenn halfway. "Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

"I came to talk to you. It's important."

"Okay." She grasped his hand and led him into the nearby tower. "What is it?"

He leaned in and whispered it into her ear, not wanting anyone to pass by and overhear. She knew it would come down that sooner or later, but she had hoped it would be later. That wasn't up to them, nothing really was, so she made the best of the information and supported him.

She caressed his cheek and kissed him. "Okay. We'll make plans."

He grasped her hand. "I love you, Maggie. I don't know where I'd be without you."

She smiled. "I love you too, and if you didn't have me, you'd probably be walker bait."

He chuckled and kissed her.

A knock came from the door. "We have people to feed, Maggie." It was Beth.

She sighed. "You should get back your patrol. I'll see you at dinner." She slipped out the door and flicked Beth on the forehead. "Brat."

Beth pinched her side and hurried over to the food.

"Eighteen and she still acts like a child," Maggie complained to Glenn, but she glad to see that Beth could still have childish moments. She returned helping Beth cook and decided to wait to get back at her.

They all had a good dinner; Daryl was the only one of the two to wake, even though they shook Carol to try to wake up, but nothing. They split hers up among the children; Daryl was informed of Rick's plan along with Sasha and Michonne once the children were bed. Daryl and Michonne were on watch while the other slept. It was peaceful night


	6. All Hell Breaks Loose

_Something's wrong._ Carol shot up in a cold sweat and found she was alone. She put her shoes on and removed the knife from the spin sheath she'd found. She pushed open the cell door and headed downstairs. Everyone was asleep, so she went to check on the children. She wiped sweat off her face and headed over to the admissions building. She felt odd as she approached it, and she turned. She found Michonne a few feet behind.

"A stroll in the moonlight?" Michonne asked.

"I came to check on Lizzie."

"I came to check on Beth."

They eyed each other for a moment, Carol went inside, and Michonne followed. It wasn't so peaceful inside. There was blood...everywhere. Carol ran down the hall, Michonne had her blade out, checking the rooms, and they found a cluster of about ten walkers pushing against a door, five more were feeding one the small body of a child. Carol took them out as Michonne thinned out the number of the ones pushing the door. Carol helped with the last and opened the door to find Carl and Lizzie inside with Beth and Judith. Lizzie was covered in blood, Carol looked for bites, but she was free of them. She was crying.

"They took her," she breathlessly cried. "They took her."

"Took who?" Carol asked.

"Mika," Carl answered. "They were playing a game, and walkers got inside somehow. We were fending them off, and...Mika was—ripped in half. I didn't see. I only had my knife, and I couldn't stop them."

"Get out of here," Michonne barked. "Now! Carl, get Rick, and Beth, keep an eye on Lizzie."

Beth grasped the girl's small shoulder and ripped her away from Carol, Carl ran to get to the prison, and Carol and Michonne looked over the casualties. They were the only survivors. Carol and Michonne had to make sure they wouldn't come back, but neither of them seemed up for it. When it was an adult, it seemed easier somehow. A child... They had so much more to learn, so much more to do, and it was anything but fair. Carol's knife and Michonne's blade felt like they were out of pure plutonium, and they couldn't do it, but they had to.

Carol lowered herself down onto her knees and closed the eyes of the little boy who always spotted for her when she taught them about knives. She stroked his hair, closed her eyes and plunged the knife into his skull. Michonne rolled a little brunette onto her back and thrusted the knife into her head. They both kinda sat there for a moment then took care of the last few then Carol rushed to her feet and went to find Mika.

Daryl, Rick and Glenn rushed inside, Rick stared in horror at the slaughtered children, Daryl lowered his crossbow, and Glenn turned away. Michonne placed her weapon back in its sheath, and she informed them of what the children had told them. Daryl distantly heard something, like a soft whimper, and he went to investigate. He found Carol on the floor with the remains of a child, but by the hair, he could tell it was a little girl. It was Mika.

The little girl had all of the flesh removed off her torso, the internal organs were splattered across the mouths of the walkers Carol had taken out, and bits of her intestines were crushed underneath Carol's knees, making the floor gushy. Her arms had been chewed down to the bone; bits of meat still clung in some places along with dead skin from the walkers. Her legs were completely stripped, teeth marks were even on the bones, and her blood was everywhere. Her little face had been mauled off, leaving only teeth and the sockets of where her of eyes were, the tissue ripped out by teeth and grabby hands. They'd even eaten her ears and earrings. One blond braid remained on her head, covered blood.

Carol was struggling not to cry. She'd promised her father that she would keep them alive, but she failed, and Mika was dead. She covered her mouth and whimpered.

Daryl crouched down beside her. "I'm sorry."

She turned her head to face him then stood up and left the admissions building, passing Rick and the others on the way. She rushed back to the prison and found Beth was cleaning off Lizzie. Carol took the rag from Beth's hands and dismissed her without a single word.

Beth went to check on Carl and Judith.

"Did you find her?" Lizzie asked. "Was she—Had she turned?"

"No, and she won't turn." She wiped blood off her cheek

"Why would you do that?" Lizzie met her eyes. "It's Mika! How could you do that? She was ten!"

"Lizzie, walkers are not humans, and they have no needs, no wants, no feelings. They are husks that only live for the kill. They only kill and destroy. You need to come to terms with that. It wasn't Mika, and it wouldn't have been Mika."

"So? You aren't the same Carol I met six months ago." Lizzie glared and walked off.

Carol dropped the bloody rag into the bucket and wiped her hands on her pants. "Lizzie."

"Leave her be," Beth suggested. "She's angry, and probably wants to be alone." She looked over as the other entered.

"How in the hell did walkers get into the admissions building?" Rick growled, his eyes flaring. "You were on watch! How didn't you see?"

"I'm supposed to have night vision now?" Daryl shot back. "The only people I seen comin' out of the prison is Carol and that lanky kid from Woodbury—James."

"All right. I'll get James and Carol, stay put." He stormed off.

Carol met Daryl's eyes from across the room, and more than anything did she want to run over and hug him, but she couldn't. She was rooted to her spot by some unseen force. Daryl walked over to her, and she crossed her arms. Was he going to accuse her too?

"You didn't see no one while you was walkin', did you?"

"Just Michonne. She went to see Beth, and I went to see Lizzie and Mika." She shrugged. "I didn't see anyone suspicious."

"All right."

Rick returned with Sasha and Glenn and Hershel, pushing in James from Woodbury, and he commanded Beth to close the door and James to sit down. Daryl sat down on the table with his feet on the bench across from them, and Rick glowered at them two suspects.

"Anyone wanna confess and save me the trouble?" he hissed.

"Confess to what?" James searched his eyes. "You wake me up in the middle of the night without tellin' me what the hell's going on and now you want me to confess? To what?"

"They were children for Christ's sake!" Rick glared at the two of them. "What were you doin' out there, Carol? Hmm? You were sleepin' like a rock, and you just wake up for a midnight stroll?"

"I had a bad feeling, and I woke up," she replied. "I went to check on Lizzie and Mika. I—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, they were kids involved?" James rudely interrupted.

"Yes, only four survived."

"Holy shit," he murmured.

Carol stood up. "I was outside when this happened, yes, but I had nothing to do with it. I would never harm a child or put a child in harm's way." She turned and left, Daryl slid off the table and followed to get her back, and she hurried down the Tombs to the abandoned cell she used to sleep in. She closed the door silently and curled up to softly cry. She kept seeing Mika as a walker, stumbling around, looking for food, and Sophia came into her mind. Then Axel...T-dog...Andrea...Dale, and everyone else they had lost. She couldn't stop the flood of emotions that coursed through her, and shouldn't hold anything back. She pulled her legs in tight as she heard Daryl's boots hitting the concrete, and she covered her mouth.

He peered into the cell. "Can I come in?"

She whimpered a laugh. "Do you have to ask?"

He opened the door and let it shut behind him. He set the crossbow on the bed and sat beside her. She didn't lean into him at first, but her resistance was very low. She curled against him; he set his arm around her, not exactly positive on how to comfort her. She grasped his shirt and pulled even closer to him, seeing the little girl's body.

––

Lizzie wiped the blood off her fingertips, scrubbing to get it off her nails, and she rubbed her skin raw and red. She could hear Rick yelling at someone who he thought let the walkers in. Lizzie sighed and gave up trying to cleaning off the blood. She removed her vest and threw it to the ground, and she saw Carl in the doorway. _Great, now he shows up,_ she bitterly thought.

"You okay?"

"Do you think I can possibly be okay seeing my sister being torn in half before my eyes?" She glared and stood up. "Are you gonna give me some pep talk and try to tell me how at least it was better that I didn't have to kill herself, because Carol did?"

"I—"

"Just because you can shut off your emotions to the world doesn't mean I want to!" She shoved by him and stormed off.

Carl felt annoyed, but he went after her. "Lizzie, wait, you can't go down there." He ran to catch up. "Lizzie, I said no!" He grabbed her arm.

"Who died and made you the king of everything?" she snapped.

"You can't go into the Tombs. It's too dangerous. Just go to Carol's cell and get some rest."

She rolled her eyes. "Carol's cell _is_ down there, and I can handle a walker."

He didn't mean to, but he laughed. "One walker? You think there's only one walker that could be down there? Have you never seen the walkers on the fence? Sometimes, it gets bad down there like that too. Just let me find Carol to tuck you in."

"I don't need to be tucked in." Her angry flared, and she really didn't like him at that moment. "Why don't you go and play adult somewhere else? As I see it, we're about the same age."

"Have you ever even killed a walker? I don't think I saw you actually kill a walker when we were clearing the fence."

She didn't say anything.

"Exactly. Now, let's go back to the cell block."

A sound caught Lizzie's attention, and she turned to the Tombs. "What was that?"

"Walker, maybe." He pulled out his gun and walked toward it. "Stay there."

Of course, Lizzie followed him, and he groaned softly, but let her follow. They followed the sound deeper and deeper into the Tombs. Carl wasn't sure it was a walker anymore, and Lizzie felt like something else was going on. She opened her mouth to tell him, when the sound of a hundred walkers moaning in unison came.

Carl grabbed her and ran. They bolted down the hall, but they were even more walkers come from that way, so Carl opened the door to where Judith was born and they went inside. Lizzie ran from the door and looked around the room as Carl listened to the walkers passing by. There had to be more than a hundred. It was bigger than the herd that passed through Hershel's farm. He met Lizzie's eyes, and she swallowed hard, pulling out Carol's—her knife.

––

"Thank you," she whispered. "I—I feel better now." She wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"We'll bury her tomorrow morning, along with the others." Was she even gonna attend this one?

"Lizzie would appreciate that." She met his eyes. "I would too."

He grasped the back of her head and pulled her into a hug. "It'll be all right. She's...in a better place."

"Oh, my God!" Carol gasped and stepped out of his arms, seeing the walkers pass by them. He grabbed her and they ducked behind the bed. They turned toward the cell, but between the rotting smell of that cell and the walker's rotting smell, they didn't detect either of them. They kept walking, and there were more than a handful. Daryl covered her mouth and she gripped his hand tightly.


	7. Exposed

Beth packed up all of Judith's baby formula and bottles and diapers and clothes and carried them up to the prison. She noticed something odd and turned—the fence was full of walkers. She gasped and ran inside. "Daddy! Rick!"

"Not now, Beth," Hershel scolded as Rick continued his interrogation.

"Walkers are pushin' down the fence!" she shouted. "They're everywhere!"

Rick spun around. "What?"

"Walkers!" Maggie ran into the cell block. "Walkers in the Tombs!"

"Get everyone to the cars!" Rick shouted. "Now!" He ran to get Carl and Beth grabbed Judy from her crib and Hershel led his girls out of the prison as Sasha and Michonne went to get the others.

Rick searched the cell block, but didn't find Carl. He found Lizzie's vest in Carl's cell, so he knew they were together, but there were no indications of where they were together. He then noticed that Daryl and Carol hadn't returned. He cursed and saw walkers pushing in from the Tombs. He shot the closest ones, Glenn rushed to his side, a bag on his shoulder, and Glenn told him in a rush half of their people had been killed, but the rest were loading into the cars.

"Where's Carl?" He locked the cell door once Glenn slid through. "And Lizzie?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen them."

"What about Daryl?" He searched his eyes. "Carol?"

"No."

"Get yourself out. Take them to the location we talked about. Do not hesitate." He handed his gun over to Glenn and grabbed ax off the table along with a shot gun then ran out.

Glenn was torn, but he had to do what he had to do for the people. He left one car behind for Rick and the others. Maggie and Hershel were trying to clear a path for a car to get through, but it was pointless. He gave Rick's gone to Beth and told her to leave them if necessary. He joined Hershel, Maggie was pushed into the group with Bob, and Sasha ran over to the fence and soaked the walkers that stood in the way of the exit in gasoline, torching them.

Michonne led the few survivors out, they got into either for the cars, Glenn and Sasha got in the driver's seat, Michonne noticed Rick wasn't in the car or helping clear a path, but Maggie pushed her into one of the cars.

"Get in." Maggie closed the door. "Go!" She ran over to Glenn's car and made sure he and Beth were all right. She was about to get inside when she saw a few stragglers—two little kids they weren't in the admissions building. They ran over to her, she put them in the front seat, and she met Glenn's eyes.

"No." He shook his head. "No, get in!"

"There's no room." She swallowed. "Take them to safety."

"Maggie, no!" Beth wailed.

"Go. I'll get the truck with Dad. Go!" She slammed the door and smacked the car.

_Do not hesitate_, Rick had said.

"No, what are you doin'?" Beth cried as he pulled out. "Stop! Maggie!"

He gripped the wheel tightly; Maggie opened the gate and ran to catch Hershel and Bob. Sasha drove through the burning walkers easily, Glenn followed, and Bob saw Maggie running over to their car, but Hershel didn't. Bob saw the walkers then Maggie then more walkers and saw that Maggie too far away. He mashed the gas and drove before Hershel saw Maggie, and he followed the others.

"Wait!" Maggie saw the walkers closing in around her, and she ran back to the prison. She entered the prison at the exact moment the walkers' weight had made the doors to the cell block give way, and she screamed.

––

The number of walkers were lessens to maybe six, Lizzie had calmed down a fraction and moved beside him at the door, and Carl was thinking how to get them out of there. He knew the others had most likely left, but his dad would still be looking for him and Carol for Lizzie. He could take them to the car, but the one thing his dad never taught him was how to drive. He could kill, cook, wash, but not drive. It wasn't necessary.

"Can you drive?" he whispered to Lizzie.

"Not well."

"Well, there are less out there right now, so if we run the way they came, we can get to the car, and we can figure out how to drive or wait to eaten."

"What about your dad or Carol?"

"We have to assume they're already gone, and it's just us. We can't let them stop us. We need to get to safety. Searching for them will only get us killed."

"Fine, but I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it; you just have to do it. Okay, get ready."

She threw open the door and ran, Carl ran after her, and they bolted out of the Tombs. They ran toward the exit, a few walkers were stumbling inside, and Lizzie moved his hand from when he was trying to aim.

"What are you doing? Those are the things that ate your sister." He studied her eyes. "We have to kill them."

"Not have to," she informed. "Look, we can slip through there. Come on." She ran and climbed through the small hole, Carl followed on her heels, because the walkers were stumbling toward them. They ran out of the prison and saw the green Hyundai was still there, and they ran to it.

––

The herd of walkers had hobbled by the cell where Daryl and Carol were hidden; he grabbed his crossbow and led them out of the cell. Carol was concerned about Lizzie and the others, but she was sure the other had taken her to safety. She focused on their survival.

They were able to get out of the Tombs and into the cell block, a walker caught the scent of Carol and turned, going after her, attracting a few more walkers. Daryl grabbed the extra arrows from his cell, Carol waited down below, and Daryl called to her. She looked up, he saw a walker grab her shoulder and began to sink its teeth down into her flesh, but Daryl couldn't raise his crossbow in time. The walker's mouth grazed her shoulder as its head exploded from the rifle's blast. It splattered over Carol's face, she shuddered, and Daryl looked over her shaking frame to see Maggie, holding a rifle and covered in blood.

Daryl ran down the stairs and checked Carol's shoulder, but the thick layers of shirts stopped its teeth from even grazing her skin. He was so relieved. "You bit?"

Maggie shook her head. "No, but I had to take out a lot of walkers." She went into her cell and grabbed a bag. "Grab what you need! We gotta go now!"

Daryl grabbed his jacket and extra arrows then started ahead of them toward the exit, Carol took up the rear, and they made their way outside. They ran over to the green Hyundai, Carol noticed someone on the floor, and she opened the door, Carl's gun was in her face.

"Hey, watch it!" Daryl shoved it from her face. "You two okay?"

"Carol!" Lizzie climbed over the seat then stopped. "What happened?"

"Walker almost got me, but I'm fine." She wiped blood off her face with the sleeve.

"Have you seen my dad?" Carl asked them. "Did he make it outta there? Or Judith?"

"I saw Rick double back into the prison," Maggie replied. "I don't know if he made it or not."

His face fell.

"Let's get out of here." Carol dug out the keys from underneath the mat. "Maggie, you can take the front."

"No, Carl can take it. I'd rather be in the back."

Carl was already in the passenger seat, so Carol and Maggie decided to get into the back, but Carol noticed Daryl was looking around.

"What is it?"

"I can't leave my bike."

"Daryl, it's a bike," Maggie argued. "And it doesn't have much gas. We can't afford to separate."

"It's the only thing left of Merle's," he hissed. "I ain't leavin' it."

"Leave it for Rick," Lizzie suggested. "If he makes it out, he'll need a car."

Daryl didn't like it, but Lizzie had a point. He got into the car, Carol and Maggie got in the back, and he drove to the location where the others would be, where Rick told them to go if anything like this happened.

Carol removed her shirt, ripped it and used part to wipe the blood off her face. She turned to Maggie and let her clean herself up. Carol noticed something odd about the blood on her jeans. "Maggie, that doesn't look like walker blood. It looks like—"

Maggie smiled weakly—a helpless smile—tears building up in her eyes. "It's not walker blood."

"Were you bit?"

She exhaled and met Carol's eyes. "I miscarried."

Carol wrapped her arms around Maggie as the tears spilled over, Daryl glanced back at them then the road, remembering the last time he took his eyes off it, Carl stared blankly out the window, and Lizzie noticed his expression. She set her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, normally Carl would've knocked it off, but he left her hand stay there.

––

Rick searched the cell block, but there was no one left. He made his way out of the prison, the rising run showed that most of the walkers had moved on or were swarming the prison. He found Carol's car had not moved, so he decided to take it. He grabbed a few supplies since the walkers were few in the cell block, and he started the car and drove toward the gate. The car stopped, he groaned and restarted it. In between the sputters, he heard something and stopped. Someone was frantically pounding on a door.

He climbed out of the car and ran over to the admissions building. "Carl?" He searched the rooms. "Carl!" He found a door that was blocked by walkers, and the pounding returned. He rushed over, throwing them aside and he threw open the door. Inside, a blood soaked Mika sat, her palms bloody. He stared and bent down. "Mika?" He touched her forehead—it was cool.

She fainted.

He picked her up and carried her out to the car, setting her in the backseat, and he drove off. He looked back at the sanctuary they had made, and he got flashes of Hershel's farm. He ran his hand through his hair and kept driving.

Where would they go now? Find another jail? Find a fort that actually is standing? What if they run into the Governor? How will they make it out here in such a large number? He sighed and figured they'd go back west to where they didn't go in the winter, and they would find a place. There had to a place. They couldn't wonder aimlessly. Somewhere there is a place where they will all be safe. They just had to find it.

––

Glenn and Sasha and Hershel stood by the cars, Beth cradled Judith closely, Michonne sat on the hood of the car and watched with a sharp eye for anyone who would be coming, and Bob sat in the truck, trying to make the quiet go away. They made a plan to check the ten rooms of the apartment complex that had a gate around it. Glenn, Michonne, and Sasha would sweep the rooms and report back. They left to begin the clearing.

Hershel checked in on Beth, and she forced a smile. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Judy likes the fresh air." She didn't meet his eyes.

"How are you really, Doodlebug?"

"I'm a little too old for you to be calling me that," she murmured.

"Not to me." He stroked her hair. "They'll be here. Don't worry."

"I just... We coulda made room. That's what bothers me. We had room, but she chose to run. Why would she do that?" She looked at him now.

"Because she chose to protect those children."

She sighed. "I wish she'd get here already. All of them." Rick. Daryl. Carl. Carol. Maggie. Lizzie. They were the only ones who didn't die who haven't reported in. They'd been waiting for hours now, but no one had shown up. Glenn had the apartments divvied up already, but she refused to let him keep that way since they others hasn't come yet. They would come. They had to.

Hershel saw a car in the distance, it was the green Hyundai, and he smiled. Beth saw his smile and followed his eyes. She set Judith in his arms and ran to unlock the gate. She let them in and closed it. They drove up the to the rest of the cars, Maggie climbed out of the car and hugged Beth tightly, and Beth dug her nails into her back and squeezed her.

"You're a sight for sore eyes." Hershel chuckled as he saw them climb out of the car.

"You too, old timer." Daryl glanced over the survivors. "No Rick?"

He shook his head.

Carl climbed out of the car and went to see Judith, Lizzie squinted as the bright sunlight swept over her face, and Carol stayed by the car.

Michonne and Sasha exited the last apartment, Glenn ambled out slowly, and when he got to end of the stairs, he saw Maggie. Her back was too him as she talked to Beth, but he didn't even care. He tackled her into a bear hug, she squealed slightly from surprised, but turned and hugged him back, tightly, crying again.

"They're clean," Michonne informed Hershel. "We can fit about four people in each apartment. I'll take the first watch."

"Maggie, Beth, Glenn, Carl and Judith can be in two," Hershel announced to all of them, filling in rooms two through ten, making one a meeting room, where he would stay. Daryl, Carol, Lizzie were in ten, so Daryl took his arrows up there while the woman raided the clothes and divvied them up. Carol took a pile up to him and left them on bed where he took up residency. Lizzie and Carol put their belongings in the same room, and Carol changed out of her bloody clothes.

She tossed her pants to the side and pulled on jeans that were purposefully tight, and she removed her shirt. Turning, she skimmed through the clothes in the on the dresser and settled on a purple V-neck top.

"Sorry."

She turned to see Daryl behind her and held the shirt to her chest. "Did you need something?"

"You scared me today," he informed her. "You scared the hell outta me today."

"I didn't hear the walker."

He walked over to her and examined her shoulder, touching her shoulder, his skin almost burned against hers; his thumb stroked the tender flesh of her shoulder. "If you didn't have that big ass sweater on, you woulda been bit."

"I know. I should be more careful. I must've been focused on getting out of there."

"You woulda hear him if I didn't call to you."

"You can't know that."

He met her eyes. "I realized somethin' then. I realized that I don't want you that close to harm ever again."

"Unless you know somewhere entirely safe, I'm that close to harm now," she replied softly, "just a few feet away."

"We ain't talked 'bout this yet."

"This?" She eyed him. "You mean...our relationship?"

"Yeah, our relationship." He bit his lower lip. "It ain't a good idea."

She didn't respond.

"Almost losin' you made me think. If I'm with you then I'd be focused on only savin' you, and I can't do that. I have to protect as many of us as I can."

"I asked you to leave, you were determined to stay, remember?" He nodded. "So why would I ask you stay when your determined to leave?" She tugged the shirt on and left the apartment. She met the group as they discussed going on a run for food. Glenn was going with Michonne and Sasha. Carol offered to go.

"No, we need you here. I can't find Bob, and some of these people have injuries. Help me tend to them. Daryl can go."

They went over to the injured as Glenn and his group readied the car, Carol didn't glance over once as Daryl walked by to get a few bags from the other cars, and she focused on her task at hand. They left, and Hershel and Carol continued to help the wounded.


	8. Bite Down

Rick made his way back to the car with more gas, Mika was wake now, weak, but wake. She moved to the passenger seat silently, and Rick headed toward the apartments that were a mile away. They would still be there.

"How'd you make it out of there?" Rick asked Mika. "Lizzie said she saw you get you bit and drug off."

"It was dark. I wasn't even in the same room as Lizzie." She wiped at the blood on her hands. "I couldn't sleep with them playing that stupid game, so I went the next room. It was Elsa." She felt the knife at her side. "And...Carol gave me a knife to protect myself, so I was able to stop some that tried to get at me, but I didn't kill them. I hid in the closet."

"Carol's gonna be proud of you."

"How could she be? I ran and hid while others died."

"You lived." He set a hand on her shoulder momentarily. "You survived. Don't ever regret that."

She nodded.

Rick saw a few cars on the hill to the apartments, Beth ran down to the gate, and he pulled in. He noticed one of the cars was missing, and he also noticed Lizzie and Carl playing with baby Judith, and Carol. She was preparing a fire, the logs she was holding fell to the ground, Lizzie turned her head, and Mika hurried out of the car. Lizzie ran over to her and hugged her tightly, Carol couldn't stop staring, and Carl smiled, going over to Rick.

"Thank God." He gathered Carl up in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "And Judy too."

He bent down and scooped up his daughter, pulling Carl in for a group hug. He kissed his son's head and his daughter's cheek. Thank God.

"You okay?" Lizzie asked Mika.

"Yeah."

She beamed and hugged her again. "C'mon, I'll show you our room." She looked up at Carol.

"Yeah," Carol slowly said. "Yeah, let's show her your room." Carol led the girls to the apartment, still in shock at the sight of Mika. It was a miracle. It was a God given miracle. She didn't dare think Mika would make it, not after Sophia. She had such hope for her daughter's return, and Daryl's constant optimistic remarks on how she would okay, how he would fine her, only made it worse when Sophia stumbled out of that barn. Her red hair muddy and gross, her shirt was even more baggy, and the picture of the rainbow looked so faded, like she'd been gone for years, and her small body dusted in dirt and God only knew what else, her shoulder revealing the fatal bit that took her from Carol forever. She kept seeing Mika like that, and it had numbed her even further, but now, seeing that Mika wasn't dead, wasn't undead, made her feel...hope. For the first time in a year, she felt hope, and it was one of the best feelings she'd felt in the past few days.

She watched Lizzie show Mika around as she got some clothes to clean her hands, Carol cleaned the blood off her palms, and she wrapped them. Lizzie took her back to their room to get clean clothes. Carol found Rick and Carl cleaning up one for their new room, Rick had found some supplies to make a makeshift crib, and Beth was helping them. She asked Beth for a favor, and Lizzie came down.

"Mr. Grimes?" Lizzie peered inside.

"Hmm?" He looked down. "What is it?"

She hugged him. "Thank you."

He rubbed her back. "It's my job."

Carol smiled and finished talking to Beth, who agreed, and they all watched as Lizzie went over to Carl and planted a thank you kiss on his check. He blushed, and they all laughed, making him even more embarrassed.

"Thank you, Beth."

"It's no problem." She smiled. "I'll take the space since Rick's back, and I'm sure Glenn and Maggie won't mind. Besides, they're probably on watch."

She nodded and left with Lizzie, Rick noticed Carol's expression and wondered what had happened when he was gone. He shook his head and went back to organizing the room.

– – –

Carol and Beth prepared dinner from the supplies Rick had brought with him, Rick and Carl went to do a fence check, Lizzie and Mika were trying to scrounge up some plates, and Carol hadn't seen what became of Bob. Hershel had put the injured to bed, so he and Carol would bring food up to them later.

"So, did you get here safe?" Rick asked Carl. "With no trouble, I mean."

"There were only a few walkers, but Carol and I took care of them. Daryl had to stop and fix the engine or something." He shrugged. "We got here safe."

"And you and Lizzie? You two were together when the walkers came in?"

"Yeah. I made her mad, so she stormed off toward the Tombs. I tried to get her to come back, but the walkers came, and we had to run. I figured out which way was the exit, and we got outta there."

"Explains that kiss."

He tried to hide his flush. "I guess."

Rick smiled at Carl's attempt to cover up his embarrassment. "Don't be ashamed. She's a good kid."

"Yeah, but she's a kid." She wasn't...say, Beth.

"Carl, I know you were pushed into adulthood, but you are a kid too. Don't forget that."

He sighed.

"Gate's intact. Let's join the others." He put his hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the camp. They were only camps, not homes. He should realize that, but eventually, there would be a home. Somewhere, someplace. They just had to find it.

Carol and Beth were laughing as they prepared dinner, Rick noticed a change about Carol, but he didn't want to jinx it, so he kept it to himself. He picked up Judith, Carol brought over her bottle, and he took it with a thank you.

"She wouldn't stop fussing," Carol told him, "when you weren't there."

"Did she now?" He checked the temperature of the bottle.

"Beth and I tried everything, but I think Beth was right—she does sense moods. Carl was really down when you weren't with the others. I'm glad you're okay. These people need you." She seemed genuine. "And as much as it was necessity rather than want, I'd like to thank you for giving me a second chance."

"Thank Daryl. If he wasn't sick or hadn't chased after you, I wouldn't have let you back in."

She gave a nod.

"Beth needs you." He turned his back to her and fed Judith.

They ate dinner with light conversation, the others hadn't returned yet, and Rick decided to stay up until they came. They went to bed, Carol sat against apartment six's door as she watched for headlight to pass by. Rick kept pacing below, talking to Carl, who couldn't sleep, but Carol couldn't hear it. She heard something shuffling in the room behind her. She stood up and pressed her ear to the door. She heard something shatter, so she knife-picked the door.

Down below, Glenn pulled into the apartment parking lot, Rick was glad to see everyone, and he assisted them with the bags. Michonne stayed behind to help unload the food they'd found, Sasha rubbed her neck and headed to her room, Glenn went to keep watch, and Daryl headed upstairs slowly. He was nervous about seeing Carol. He wasn't sure how she'd act around him. She won't be asleep every day, so he just hoped it'd smoothed over.

As he passed apartment one, he heard a grunting sound, and he stopped, turning to listen. He heard arguing, and he knew one of the voices as Carol. The other was a man, but that was all he could make out. Someone fell, Carol groaned, and he kicked open the door, rushing inside to find Bob pinning Carol down with a broken bottle of whiskey at her throat.

"Oh, hell no." He grabbed Bob by his shirt and threw him against the wall, Carol rolled over and held a hand over the wound on her neck, and Bob lunged at Daryl. Daryl punched him square in the jaw, and Bob staggered back. His breath stank of whiskey, and his movements were drunken. He tried to hit Daryl again, but Daryl kicked him hard in the groin, and he fell over. "Carol." He bent down and rolled her onto her back. "Lemme see."

"It's nothing." She stood up, but she stumbled, gripping her neck. "It's just a little cut."

He saw the blood seeping through her fingers, he pinned her against the wall and pried her fingers off. A deep gash ran from her collar bone almost to her directly beneath her ear. "Shit." He pulled out his knife and sliced the curtains, ripping off a chuck and placed it over the wound. He didn't trust her to walk down stairs, but he couldn't leave her with Bob, so he picked her up and carried her downstairs to Hershel's room.

"What's happened?" Hershel asked outside at that point, along with Sasha and Maggie.

"Bob happened." He moved by him and set Carol on the sofa. "Asshole's drunker than a skunk, cut her and tried to fight me."

"Why would Bob attack Carol?" Rick asked, handing Hershel the first aid bag.

"Over whiskey," Michonne hissed. "Tried to kill Daryl over it on our run, now he's wounded Carol for tryin' take it." She scoffed. He should've kept walking.

"I'll talk to him." Rick holstered his gun and left the apartment.

"Do you have a belt?" Hershel asked as wiped off blood with water and a small gauze.

"No," Carol weakly replied.

"I do." Daryl unbuckled it. "Why?"

"She'll need stitches, and I don't have an anesthetic. She'll scream."

Daryl met Hershel's eyes through his bangs, pausing in undoing his belt. "How deep is it?"

Hershel didn't answer. "Give me your belt."

He removed his knife and handed it to him. He stood up and went outside as Hershel said, "Bite down on this." He could still hear her muffled screams as Hershel began to sew the wound, anger pulsated through him, and he wanted to kill Bob in that moment. Bob didn't have a single drink until the moment when they need everyone sober, and that would be fine if he hadn't jumped Carol. He clenched his jaw and paced back and forth, trying to determined if he should go upstairs and stomp his ass or let Rick handle it.

"Hold her down."

Michonne moved to the arm of the couch and set her hands on Carol's slender shoulders, adding pressure, Carol grasped Michonne's wrists, her nails biting down, but Michonne didn't flinch, just added more weight to keep her still, and eventually, Carol passed out.

Daryl heard Rick coming down the stairs and turned to him. "Well?"

"He's blacked out." He stopped in the doorway. "He said Carol threatened him, tried to make a move, so he acted first."

"Do you believe him?"

"I'll have to talk to Carol." He peered in at her limp figure. "In the morning, I'll talk to her, get the full story from both of them. I'd hate to go with the latter here."

Daryl peered in at Carol. She didn't have her knife or a gun on her. She woulda had to have threatened him with her fists, and she don't pack much punch. He went up to Bob's room to see if her knife was there, but it wasn't. He went to their room, no one was inside, but he saw plate that he knew Carol had left for him. He removed the plate from on top of it, and he noticed her knife sitting on the counter beside a set of shirts that looked like they didn't fit anyone. It looked like she was making gauze out of them or something. He eyed them as he bit into the cold food she'd left.

In the morning, Rick spoke to Bob, but Bob didn't remember, and Carol was still asleep. Daryl was on watch as Rick made plans with Glenn to find some new shelter, something less cramped. He glanced behind him and saw Carol approaching him, a shirt covering her wound, like she didn't want anyone to see it. Like when Ed would beat her. His jaw clenched.

"Morning," she softly called, voice weak. She needed water.

"Mornin'." He followed her with his eyes.

"Carol." Rick caught her on her way to get something to drink. "I need to talk to you."

She picked up a bottle of water that Lizzie offered and drank a small sip. "I know."

Daryl watched them return to one, the door closed, and he was tempted to eavesdrop, but he didn't.

––

"What happened with Bob?" Rick sat down on the wooden coffee table cross from her. "Did he come at you?"

"I was going to bed," she recalled. "I heard shuffling, and I thought there was a walker inside, but when I opened the door, it was just Bob. He...kept stumbling, and it was obvious he was drunk." Ed used walk the same way, when she used to wait up to make sure he got home safe. "I tried to dump the bottle, but he grabbed my shirt and threw me away from the sink. The bottle shattered on the floor, and he grabbed the biggest piece and lunged at me with. I tried to calm him down, but you see how it went."

"So, he came at you?"

"Yes."

"Wait, I heard a thuddin' coming from upstairs. How could he have just tossed you once if I heard it several times?" He searched her face. "What happened?"

"I told you. You probably heard him tripping over his feet." She stood up. "That's all I know." She left and went upstairs, sheathing her knife. She felt a slight twinge in her back, but she ignored it. She took the pills Hershel gave her and went to help the others.


	9. All We Can Do

Rick, Glenn, and Michonne went on a run, but not for supplies. Only Daryl, Hershel and Maggie knew what they were trying to find. Daryl kept his eye on Bob, who was still in camp to his displeasure and to make matters worse, Carol had been acting strangely. She was always up before anyone and in bed after everyone. He didn't have to watch, so he was going to ask her about it once he returned from finding dinner. He had ten fish and ten squirrels. He handed them over to Beth and Carl on his way to his and Carol's apartment, Lizzie offered to help since no one else really knew how to skin the squirrels, and Mika and Maggie went to collect rocks and wood.

Daryl closed the door to the apartment and found Carol in her bedroom. He knocked, and she turned slightly to face him. "Hey."

"Hey." She wrapped her arms around herself. "What brings you up here?"

"You."

"What about me?" She searched his eyes.

"How you feelin'? You been up here for two days now."

"It's just...my back. I've had a slight pain in it for a couple of days. It's probably just a bruise."

"Lemme see."

"No. It's fine. I had Maggie look at it." She shrugged. _Just go away, Daryl._ "I'm fine. We should help the others."

"They're fine. Lemme see."

She sighed and turned around, silent.

He tentatively reached out and grasped the hem of her shirt, lifting it up slight. His eyes widened, and he pushed it up further. Across the small of her back was a black, yellow and slightly purple bruise. He swallowed hard and started to leave.

"Daryl." She blocked the door. "Don't. We need all the people we can get, and it was one drunken accident."

"Move."

"No." She locked eyes with him. "I am not going to move. I am not going to just let you walk all over me like a doormat. I know you possibly care about me, but don't. I can handle myself and I certainly can fight my own battles."

"Possibly?" he shouted. "The hell, woman? You think I possibly care about you?"

"Fine, wrong adverb. Just let me handle this." She searched his eyes then crossed her arms and confessed what she'd held back from Rick. "He threw me around a bit, and yes, my back is bruised and my chest is injured, but they aren't fatal wounds. He was verbally abusive too, but I can handle it. It's not like I haven't endured that before. I can understand your anger, because of the drinking and him risking his life for a bottle, but you need to let me handle this, Daryl."

"You don't understand nothing." He backed her against the door. "You gotta thick head."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Lemme spell it out for you." He grasped her firmly by the shoulders, roughly pulling her away from the door, and he crushed his mouth against her. He threw his statement to her before out the window and pulled in her closer. She was jolted by the kiss, but didn't hesitate to respond. She curled her fingers into his shaggy hair, persistently kissing him, tugging on his hair.

He groaned and backed her against the door, his hands moving down to her hips, but he stopped and broke the kiss, and Carol swallowed at the question he wasn't asking. She answered it by kissing him. He lifted her up, her thighs locked around his waist and his arms slid around her hips. She tried not to, because she really wanted this to happen, but the groan that escaped her lips was anything but pleasurable, and Daryl stopped instantly, moving his hands, lowering her back on the floor.

"I'm—"

"We can wait," he interrupted softly. "Besides, we're havin' a good meal tonight."

"Does this mean what I think it means or is this a dead-end?"

He paused. "It ain't a dead-end."

"That's not reassuring, but I'll accept it. For now," she added as she opened the door.

For now, that's all he can give her. They made their way down to the parking lot as the others returned just in time for dinner. Rick shook his head at Daryl, and Daryl nodded. How much longer could they stay in this pit?

– – –

Lizzie held her hands out as the fireflies lit up the night, Carl watched her, slightly envious, and Mika remembered when they used to do this with their parents. Lizzie caught Carl watching them, she wondered why he acted like there was no happiness to be found, and she began to wonder what his story was. They didn't hit it off right away, and she really thought he was practicing to be a horse's behind, but he wasn't so bad. He just needed to be reminded that sometimes a little joy can be enough.

Lizzie caught one of the lighting bugs, but immediately released it. "Reminds me of your birthday cookout," Lizzie told Mika.

Mika crinkled her nose. "When Dad burned everything?"

She laughed. "Yeah. He had to go out and buy everything already cooked."

Mika smiled in memory. "We got food poisoning for a week."

"Got outta school," Lizzie pointed out. It was Hunter Safety for her, though. Coulda come in handy now.

"Girls, it's late." Carol stopped at the top of the stairs. "It's time for bed." She hated to cut their time short, but it was late and dark, and they had a busy day ahead of them.

"Same for you, Carl," Rick said beside him.

"But Dad—"

"No buts. Go on."

"Fine. Goodnight." He turned and headed to his room.

"You're really laying down the law with Carl," Michonne commented, startling him from appearing out of nowhere.

"He needs to remember he's a child."

"Forcing him to be a child is only going to make him want to be an adult even more." She sat down on the bench and propped her feet up on the arm. "Keeping watch tonight?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe I'll keep you company."

He chuckled and shook his head, walking toward the gate. He saw the white of her katana. She was going to keep him company.

Carol checked in on Lizzie and Mika, but they weren't in their beds, and she wondered where they were. She could hear their laughs coming from the apartment next door through the cracked window. She guessed they want to spend time with Beth. She closed the window and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

"Girls spendin' tonight with Beth," Daryl informed her.

"I heard them laughing through the window." She rubbed her arms. It was a chilly night. "Who's on watch tonight?" She thought it was him.

"Rick and probably Michonne." They'd become close these past few months.

She nodded and went over to the counter, picking up the small pile of clothes from the counter. "How many times do I have to tell Lizzie before she gets it through her head?" She sighed. "Why do I even bother?"

"Gotta keep tryin'," he answered, though she wasn't looking for one. "That's all we can do."

She met his eyes and searched them. Daryl has these most intense eyes, which also make his stares very intimate or intimidating and sometimes it was as if he can see into someone's very soul. At least, it felt that was to her. She couldn't speak for anyone else. And...soon, as she searched his eyes, she found herself being pulled to him, and her legs were moving. She was so hypnotized by his intense blue eyes.

Daryl grasped the small curls at the nape of her neck, tipping her head back, leaning down and sealing her mouth with his. She dropped the clothes she was holding, leaning up on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. His lips were demanding, firm, and slow, molding to hers. He kissed her like that for a long time, her body was responding to each kiss, their mouths felt like fire touching fire, and it spread throughout their bodies. Their breathes came faster, their bodies moved even closer, and nothing else mattered. There were no other sounds around them, and the grim world outside became less and less until it disappeared.

She felt his knuckle graze her navel, she lowered one of her hands from his neck and unbuttoned the bottom button of her blouse, and her fingers popped off the second and third then Daryl's hand met hers and began to remove the buttons himself. She unbuttoned the few buttons on his shirt then pushed it off his broad shoulders with his assistance, not breaking the kiss. She started on the buttons to his second shirt; he pushed her blouse off, leaving her in a dingy tank top.

He broke the kiss and led her backwards to the bedroom that was supposed to be theirs until he made one of many mistakes with their relationship. He knocked her gently onto the bed, and bending down, he removed her combat boots and socks. They both leaned up to remove her belt and undo her pants, Daryl gently tugged them down, tossing them aside with her boots. Climbing onto the bed above her, he gently seized her mouth. His heart was race beneath his half-covered chest. In the back of his mind, the worry of his back and his scars made his pause momentarily, but he reminded himself that Carol, too, would have her own share of scars. If she was willing to show him, he would be willing to show her.

Carol finished unbuttoning his shirt, and pushing herself up, forcing him to his knees, she pulled it down, and he shrugged it off. Having him in that position, she unbuckled his belt and jeans, and he stood up to let his pants, along with this boxers, slide off. Carol took that moment look him over, appreciating his...aspects, making the muscle in the deepest, darkest part of her body clench in response, her breathing increasing.

Moving back on the bed, Daryl planted feather-soft kisses along her jaw, the corners of her mouth, down her neck and back up to her mouth. She grasped handfuls of his hair, moaning softly into his mouth as he leisurely pushed his erection against her, and she can barely contain the riotous emotions that coursed through her. She wanted him so badly, to feel his skin flush against her, to have him inside of her. She reached down and removed her tank top, leaving her in bra.

Reaching around, Daryl unclasped her bra and gently, slowly peeled it off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes came across faded scars that littered her torso, but the last thing he knew she would want is for him to stare at them, not right now, not when she was quaking like leaf beneath him, wanting him as badly as he wanted her. They would have time. He kissed her, coaxing her tongue with his, and he felt her hips rising toward his. He grasped her small hips with his hands and moved his kiss downward. He kissed along her torso down to her hips. Looping his thumbs through her panties, he tugged them down, running his tongue along her navel, then nibbled on her hipbone, planting kissing in between, causing her breathes to leave her in whooshes.

He slid her panties off and came face-to-face with her, at the beautiful woman before him, and he shifted his weight to his elbows, grasping each of her head, kissing her softly. He eased into her with exquisite slowness, she grasped his forearms as her body acclimatized to the intrusive, overwhelming feeling of him inside of her, remaining her just how long it'd been.

He studied her face before he moved out and again, slowly eased back in, allowing her body to adjust. He tried to calm himself, but among the feeling of her around him, the way she looked right now, and his inexperience, he came fairly quickly inside of her.

But after a few minutes, he returned to form and retained it as he made love to her, allowing himself to feel and receive love for the first time in...well, ever. Being with Carol, completely, made him realize that he wouldn't want to spend another minute resisting for the good of everyone. That, in times like these, selfish moments that could occur without repercussion, should be taken. He wouldn't waste another second trying hide from her. After all they'd been through together, he more than owed it to her.

Afterward, lying wrapped with his arms around her body, his head against her chest, her fingers smoothing through his shaggy hair, both regaining their breathing, relishing the moment they both thought would come. Thought would come... Could've possibly come. Hmm?

He shifted against her, his large hand against her hip, moving upward toward a small scar. "You all right?" he softly asked. "Been pretty quiet."

She rolled onto her side to look him in the eye. "I feel...incredible." She kept her voice in a whisper.

His lip twitched as he gave her a half-smile, for some reason, she laughed, and that infectious sound made him laugh. She snuggled up against him and rested her head on his strong chest, softly exhaling the words she wanted to stay to him, knowing he couldn't make them out. It was just a sigh, a slight, inaudible "I love you".

– – –

Carol gazed at Daryl as he slept soundlessly. He only did that on nights like this, when he was tired from his watch and tired from sex. He slept so deeply, so he never woke to find her dressed in his shirt, watching him sleep as she contemplated how to tell him how she felt without scaring him off. So far, she didn't have any new ideas. She didn't want to scare him, but she had to tell him. She had to.

She sat down in the bed beside him and lightly touched his face, he woke instantly.

"Hey." He sat up. "Is it mornin'?"

"No. Not even close." She pointed to the window where the sun didn't stream in.

"Why you up?" He was groggy.

"It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

"Tell me what's buggin' you and I will."

"It's just insomnia." She leaned over and kissed him. "Just go back to sleep."

"Insomnia, huh?" He sat up. "I can help that."

"Oh, can you?" She met his eyes. "You can do a lot of things, but stopping my insomnia—nope, you just can't do that."

He grasped her cheeks between his palms and kissed her slowly, pulling her closer. In the back of her mind, she could practically hear Andrea asking: _Do you miss your vibrator now?_

Answer: _Hell, no._

– – –

Rick found the door to Carol and Daryl's apartment ajar, he stepped inside and knocked on the bedroom door, stepping away as he waited. He didn't wait long—well, not as long—before Daryl emerged from the doorway, tugging his jacket on.

"Goin' on a run," he explained. "I need you ready to go in five minutes."

"Okay."

Carol appeared in the doorway, fully dressed, her pixie cut would be a giveaway if it wasn't always in that slight, bed hair manner. "Good afternoon." She smiled softly.

"Yeah, I bet it is." He left the room with a smile on his face as Carol blinked and blushed, but it wasn't from embarrassment. He found went to Maggie and Glenn's place next, and he had to wait before they came out too. What was it today? The heat?

Glenn stepped out of the room. "Yeah?"

"Meet me at the car in three minutes. Goin' on a run, need you and Maggie ready."

"Three minutes? Okay."

Rick sighed and went downstairs, finding Michonne in mid-afternoon workout, Beth was rocking Judith in the kitchen, and he waited until Michonne was done before he grabbed his bag from the table and kissed Judith goodbye.

"Be back for dinner," Beth called to them.

"Yes, Mom," Michonne murmured.

Rick laughed. "What? You don't like the constant reminder?"

"Do you?" she challenged.

"I can't win with you, can I?"

She smiled. "You're just learning that?" She took his bag and set them in the truck.

Rick walked over to the car and noticed one of the guns was missing. He scanned the lot and found Carl showing Lizzie how to take apart and load it. He went over to them and crouched down. "Carl?"

He stood up. "I was just showing her how to—"

"I'm sorry." Lizzie cut into Carl's explanation politely. "I asked him to show me. I wanted to learn about guns, and Carol hasn't had the time lately."

"No, it's fine. Learning how to load and clean a gun is fine, but ask." He took the gun from his son's hands. "And make sure Carol knows about this."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Good. Now, you both have chores to do. Go on." He watched them head for the apartments to get it packed up. He handed the gun to Glenn as he passed by.

Daryl tossed his bag in the truck and adjusted his crossbow on his back. "We leavin' or what?"

"We are now." He took the passenger seat, Michonne was driving, Maggie and Glenn and Daryl got in the backseat.

Hershel waited until they were gone before he called to Sasha and Carol and Bob. He needed some supplies of his own, but he couldn't let Rick know about it. It was surprise. He didn't want Bob to go anywhere with any of their people, but he was the only other able body. Sasha could set his straight until they returned to deal with his behavior. They've had to put it off, and with a run of this importance, it would be put off even longer.

"What do you need that Rick isn't getting?" Carol asked.

"It's not just for me. It's for a few people who are still recovering. It's nothing major, just a couple of small luxuries." He handed the list to Sasha.

"Can we spare this many people?" Sasha asked. "You'd be here alone to defend the camp."

"I have Carl and Beth. We'll be fine."

"All right." She set the note in her pocket. "Get your bags, and we'll meet by truck in five."

Carol searched one for the bag she prepared for whenever she went on runs, which was rare, but an able body is an able body. She shouldered it and only then noticed Bob in the doorway, looking in at her, his eyes on the shirt-covered wound.

"You got something to say?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry."

She walked by him and stopped. "Can you stop?"

He tensed.

"Can. You. Stop?" she repeated.

"I—don't know. I never tried."

"It's a good time to try." She met Sasha and climbed into the passenger seat.

"You sure you wanna go out?" Sasha asked, glancing at her wound.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"Don't want to be dragged down," she assured her.

Bob got in the car, and they left. Sasha drove to the nearest store, they all got out, and Sasha ripped the list and handed half to Carol, telling Bob to keep watch, not wanting him anywhere near anything alcoholic.

Carol found a few stuffed animals that the two injured kids wanted, and she felt odd that Hershel sent them for something like this. If it boosts moral, she guessed it was all right. She took a few bears and a couple of less ugly dogs. She found a toy for Judith and a few for Mika and Lizzie. She noticed a doll among all of them that stood out. It was the same doll that Morales' daughter gave to Sophia. She found herself reach for it, but something reached for her instead.

A small hand that belonged undoubtedly to a walker grabbed her wrist, and Carol couldn't see its body to kill it, so she grabbed her knife and hacked its wrist off, throwing it across the room. She backed up and rubbed her wrist. The bloody stub kept reaching, unaware of the sever. She didn't try to dig through the toys to find its face. It could bit her before she found it, so she left to see what hadn't been taken.

She found a few survival knives, cans of tuna, cans of sardines, a few seeds for gardening, and she found some feminine hygiene products. She returned to the front of the store and found Bob wasn't there. She pulled out her knife and stepped outside, but there were no walkers. She heard something crunch behind her, and she turned as Sasha came over to her.

"Where the hell is he now?" Sasha growled.

"I don't know." She stepped outside and found Bob taking out a walker by the car. At least he has an excuse.

They got in the car, Sasha drove them back to camp, and when they arrived, and Rick's people have arrived. It was pouring down rain now, Carol grabbed her bag and went upstairs to distribute what she'd found among the injured. They were really happy to get the toys, and that made her smile. She found Lizzie talking to one of the injured young men, telling him a story from one of the books off the shelf.

"It's his favorite...from when he was little, you know." She set it down. "What's that?"

"Well, I remembered you telling Mika about a toy you had when you a younger and I found this at the store." She handed Lizzie the soft, fuzzy brown and white dog plushy.

Lizzie stared at it then met her eyes. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome." She handed the boy a stuffed bear and left, finding Daryl in the doorway, watching her interact with children. "Enjoying the show?"

"You went on a run today."

"With Bob and Sasha." She removed her bag and headed to the first floor to give the cans to Rick.

"With Bob?" he exclaimed. "Who the hell decided that?"

"Hershel." She knocked on the door then opened it, Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judith were all on the couch, talking, and she felt slightly bad about interrupting their privacy, but she emptied the cans out on the counter anyway.

Carl picked a can up. "Sardines in mustard sauce." His nose crinkled.

"Food's food," Rick replied.

"Doesn't make it less disgusting," Michonne commented.

He shook his head. "Thank you, Carol."

She nodded and left, taking a can with her. She handed it to Daryl as she passed him and went to their apartment. He followed after a beat and closed the door.

"The run went smoothly," she began. "He wasn't even in the store, so he didn't get anything to drink. We needed another able body, and he was around."

"We needa deal with him," he muttered. "He ain't getting' off easy for what he done."

"In the morning," she agreed.

"Real stuff's better." He shook the can.

"Are you the expert on canned goods?" she teased.

"Nah. Merle used to take me fishin', and my old man used to buy a lotta canned crap so he didn't have to cook. Real is better."

"Real is better," she agreed. "You can have my share. I'm exhausted, and I don't think I can stomach that."

"No, you're gonna eat your share."

"No, you are." She kissed him. "Good night."

He pursed his lips, but didn't argue with her. He watched her go into their room and fall asleep in her clothes. _Did he miss somethin'?_


	10. Pulsate

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or Hyundai.**

"We'll be gone for a few days," Rick told the group that was there. "Sasha, Glenn, Maggie—it's up to you all to protect these people. Hershel, I want you to keep everyone in. Do not let anyone leave, and don't let anyone in either." He got the responses his wanted. "Get your things, Michonne. I'll meet you by the car when you're able." And Daryl, if he ever comes down.

Carl followed his father out. "A few days? How long is that? Two? Three?"

"I don't know how many days it'll be." He set his bag in the car. "But I need you to not worry. We'll be back as soon as we can, and you have enough supplies to last until we do."

He nodded. "I'll take care of everyone."

"I know you will." He teasingly ruffled his hair. "Watch your sister. Kiss her good night for me."

"I will."

"Good. Take care of things, do some stuff—chores and such."

He nodded. "Be careful."

"Always am."

––

Carol held her legs close to her as Daryl dressed, watching his every movement, thinking hard. He'd told her last night that he and Rick and Michonne were going away for a few days to look for a more secure place. She was glad Rick was looking for a place, but the idea unsettled her. Daryl didn't know it, and she wasn't going to tell him, but she had a very bad feeling. Just a gut instinct, like when something happens to your child, or someone you love dearly.

He shouldered his crossbow and looked over at her. "I'll be back soon."

She didn't respond.

"Carol?" He leaned down toward her.

She met his eyes. "I'll meet you down by the car."

He frowned. "All right." He exited the house, feeling unnerved.

Carol dressed and went to the car before they left. Rick and Michonne weren't in the car, but packing up supplies. Daryl was leaning against the car, picking at the edge of his blade. She walked over to him.

He put his knife back in its sheath. "Hey."

"Hey." She folded her arms.

"Feelin' okay? You're pale."

"It's cold." She shuddered for effect. "Daryl, I have to tell you something."

He sensed her seriousness and tensed slightly. "Tell me what?"

She leaned up and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer, feeling the cold on her. Distantly, she heard Rick and Michonne, so she broke the kiss. She grasped his face between her hands. "I love you. Be safe."

Rick and Michonne set the last of the bags in the truck and shut it, Carol stepped back as Daryl stared at her, and she smiled a good luck at them, glancing at Daryl once more before going back to their apartment. It was still early morning, the sun hasn't even risen yet, so she decided to get some more sleep. But the look of his face made sleep impossible. She lied down in on his side, his scent had soaked into the bed, and it was enough to make her fall asleep.

––

Rick glanced over at Daryl, who had been silent the entire drive—no, since Carol spoke to him. What did she say that made him act like this? Rick wasn't sure if he was sad, happy, broken or just tired. Daryl was a hard man to read on a regular day, so whatever happened between him and Carol really did a number on him. What did she say?

Michonne looked over the map in the backseat, they were a few building that would do for a camp, but she wasn't sure about some of them. When they passed by, a lot of walkers were stumbling about. They would have to find a place that's secure enough for an infant. With the prison overrun, they were only a few places to go. She wasn't sure if they could do any better than those apartments. They would do if they had to, but she was hoping they could find a place that had more space and less thin walls. She could hear conversation two rooms down, among other things.

Daryl gazed at the knife that he was using to pick the dirt out from underneath his nails. He didn't mind the dirt being there, but it gave him something to do. Carol's words played over and over in his mind. He was glad to know that Carol loved him and only him, but deep inside it felt...wrong. How could someone love him? He wasn't even sure he was...enough to be loved by anyone, least of all Carol. All of his life, he's been afraid of those who he loved, and he lost everyone he loved. He wasn't even sure if he loved her back or if he was afraid to love her back or if she was just...convenient. He did care about her. A lot. But was that love? Was he even able to love someone the way Carol loved him? Or have her love him?

He shifted in his seat slightly, moving his gaze out the windshield. He could feel Rick glancing at him, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. Carol loved him. It wasn't hard to believe. With all they've been through, it was natural and he liked hearing it, but...how? He couldn't wrap his mind around how Carol could love him. What's there to love? Was there something he didn't see that she did? He didn't understand.

Rick spotted something and stopped the car, Daryl and Michonne looked at him, but he said nothing as he climbed out of the car. They followed, and they saw what had caught his attention. A gated community.

––

Hershel kept watch the second night they didn't return. He kept his guard up. Maggie and Glenn had gone out to get a few logs for a fire for the morning, but they hadn't returned yet. He had no worries. They probably had a heavy load, so he knew it would be a while before they returned.

"Still not back yet?" Carol exited the first apartment, having just put Judith down for the night.

"Not yet."

She rubbed her arms. "Do you know what Rick's looking for? I get the feeling it's more than just a place."

"What are we all looking for?" Hershel asked her. "What are you looking for?"

She met his eyes. _What are you looking for? _She sat down on the bench beside him. "Have you found the answer that question?"

"Not yet."

She smiled. "Figures."

In the distance, a flashlight waved, and Carol stood up to open the gate as Maggie and Glenn appeared, holding armfuls of logs. She opened it wide enough for them to fit through, took a few of the logs from each, and they walked up together.

"Next time, you reach through the thorn bush." Glenn rubbed his arm, and Maggie laughed.

"Next time, you watch for walkers," Maggie shot back through her laughs.

Carol dumped the logs in the pile and wiped the dirt off her sleeves and hands. Maggie and Glenn relieved Hershel from his watch, Carol checked on Beth and Judith. Carl was asleep on the couch, and the girls were sleeping deeply. She covered Beth up a bit more then closed the door. She turned and found Carl was wake.

"You do that a lot," he observed.

"Just making the rounds," she waved it away. "You should be sleeping. It's late."

"You should asleep too," he countered. "Are you worried about the others? Daryl?"

"Aren't you?"

He met her eyes. "Don't be. They'll be fine. He's got Michonne and my dad."

"I know." She was more worried about what he would say when he returned. "Get some rest." She walked out and headed for her apartment. She locked the door, peering in on Lizzie and Mika, who had legs halfway off the bed, but she let them be. She didn't want to wake them.

She sat down in the middle of her and Daryl's bed, crossing her legs and wrapping her arms around herself. She shivered and rubbed her arms. She closed her eyes and rested her head in her arms. She had a lot to sort out. Her head was already aching. Parts of her didn't want to be alone tonight, but parts of her knew it was better to be alone right now. She wasn't so sure she meant just tonight or overall. Everyone she's ever loved has died, expect for four people who've been there since the beginning of it all. How many more would she lose...would they all lose before they walkers starve or just get so decomposed that they can't move or fight? Years? Decades? Would humanity ever be able to stand up again? Vaguely she could remember her biggest issue was trying to keep out of Ed's temper and how to keep his eye off Sophia. How negligible that was now.

– – –

Rick and Daryl did a perimeter check of the gated community, Michonne kept watch on the road, taking out a few walkers here and there, and Rick and Daryl met at the other end. They were very few people inside—four or five at the most—no walkers though. They met back with Michonne, and as it was almost nightfall at this point, they found a place to stay in a nearby town. Rick divvied up a can of tuna and water, Daryl decided to keep watch outside the dingy little hole of a hotel room. He sat on the hood of the car, adjusting an arrow in his crossbow, the night air clearing his head.

"Do you think it's a good idea? The gated community?"

Rick looked up at her. "I do. Concrete's stronger than steel, and there ain't many walkers. I think it's a good idea." Better than those apartments.

"Wide, open spaces, possibly a yard for Judith to play in—seems like a dream."

"It does." He leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs. He met her eyes, thinking on how much she knew. About Carl, about Judith, but...how much did they know about her? "You've been with us for eight months now?"

Her eyes grew guarded. "That sounds about right."

"I hardly know anything about you though." He searched her eyes and knew he'd stepped on a nerve. "How well did you know Andrea?"

"Well enough."

He wasn't going to get anywhere. "Wanna take the bed or me?"

Her lip twitched as she repressed a smile. "You wouldn't be suggesting something inappropriate, now would you?"

He laughed. "I meant do you want to sleep on the bed or should I?"

"I'll take the couch."

"No. No, you can have the bed."

"I wasn't asking," she replied.

"We can argue about this all night. You take the bed."

"You can't make me take the bed," Michonne informed him. "And the couch is more comfortable."

He shook his head. "Fine. You win."

"Don't I always?" she mused.

"Yeah. You do."

– – –

"What do you mean, almost gone?" Carl demanded. "How can it almost be gone? We just went to get some."

"I recounted it this morning, and we only have enough to get through today," Hershel explained.

"Well, we'll go on a run, get some more," Glenn said. "Simple as that."

"Yeah, but where?" Carol shifted behind the counter. "Haven't we gotten all of the formula from all the nearby places?"

"We'll have to go further out." Maggie crossed her arms. "Glenn and I can go."

"I need him here." Hershel went over to the counter. "We have increased walkers at the gate now, and we need to prepare for when Rick and the others return."

"Carol and Carl can do that," Glenn replied. "Beth and Lizzie and Sasha and Bob—"

Maggie caught on and touched his arm. "He's right. We should stay." She searched his eyes, and he backed down. Tomorrow was important, and it would raise morale. It had to.

"Fine. Who's going to go then?"

"Carol, Maggie and Sasha can go."

"I'll tell her." Carol left the room and went to find Sasha. "Carl, give me a hand."

He jogged after her.

"So, what are they really going to get?" Glenn asked.

"Tomorrow is Judith's first birthday," Hershel explained. "Carl was insistent, and it would lighten the mood around here."

"And Carol knows this?"

"She does. We also need diapers and kerosene. They might be able to find some further out. We need Maggie and Glenn to help move tables outside, and I don't want Bob outside the compound or out of my sight. We're only keeping him here until Rick returns and we have somewhere to go, somewhere he doesn't know of."

They nodded.

Carol found Sasha in her room, and she filled her in the on what they needed, but Sasha wasn't in the best of moods. She went along with it anyway, and she gathered her things. Once their bags were in the back, they took the truck, Carl opened the gate for them, and Sasha drove towards the part of town they've yet to go to.

The trip was silent, Sasha didn't want to play music, and Daryl had taken most if it with him or lost it in Zack's car. Sasha first drove back to the prison by Carol's request, most of the walkers were out in the field or ambling inside. Sasha pulled up to C block, Carol and Sasha got out while Maggie kept the walkers at bay with her machete. Carol found the bike in the same condition it was left in, Sasha helped her lifted it up and onto the bed of the truck, Maggie and Sasha traded positions as Carol secured Daryl's motorcycle.

"He's gonna be surprised to see this," Maggie commented, leaning against the truck, holding the extra bungee cords.

Hopefully surprised enough to not immediately reject her or push her away, because he believes he isn't worthy enough to be loved. "Thank you for helping me with this." She secured the wheels then climbed down and shut the gate.

"Let's go." Maggie gestured to the mass of walkers hobbling out of the cell block. "Sasha!"

She sliced open—and off—the head of a walker, the face fell in two directions as it fell to its knees, and Sasha hurried over to the car, climbing in the passenger seat.

Maggie drove them to the town that was a ways away from the apartment, they only found a few shops, but the doors were boarded up, so they had to break the windows. Stepping over broken glass, Carol took the list that pertained to food, Sasha took the half on batteries and flashlight and lanterns—mostly anything that gives off light—and Maggie had the remaining chunk on feminine hygiene and bandages. They found most of the supplies were still intact, so they filled their backpacks and even purses that were just hanging about. They weren't any walkers inside either, so they took as much as they could and loaded it into the car.

Maggie narrowed her eyes as the blazing sun caught her face. "We should get a crib for Judith too, see if we can scrounge up some more formula and clothes. Judith needs somethin' nice to wear on her birthday, and she's outgrowin' her clothes now."

"There was a store for toddlers' down the road." Sasha lead them to the store with dust and mud covered windows and pulled out her knife. "And I know I saw walkers."

Maggie and Carol got their knives out as well, Maggie used the cutters to snip off the chains, and two walkers came with it. Sasha and Carol took out a man and woman who wore the same uniform. They walked over the dead bodies then cleared out every item Judith would ever want or need, Maggie secured them in the back by Daryl's bike, Carol checked in the very back, and she heard a groaning. She gripped the hilt of her knife and slowly crept along iron shelves. She peered over the shelf and found a man. He was living, and he was gripping his ankle.

She studied him. He was tall, dark hair, but she couldn't see his face. It was cloaked by darkness in the musty storage room. She approached him and bent down. "Are you all right?"

"I will be. It's just my ankle." He groaned and sat up a bit. "I tripped. I don't know over what though."

"Let me see." She slid up his pant leg and looked over the wounded ankle. From what she'd learned from Hershel and what she had to look up online to keep the neighbors from asking too many questions to which they already had the answer to, she knew how to help him. She found a nearby onesy for a baby and ripped it using her knife, wrapping it around his swelling ankle. "That should do, but you'll need to find a brace." Good luck. We just raided the entire area. "Is your camp nearby?"

"Yes, it is." He stood up. "I appreciate this."

"It's the best I could do." She rose. "Don't put too much pressure on it."

"I'll make sure he won't." A man walked over to them, flashlight in Carols face. He was Hispanic, and he had a familiar feature to him.

Carol's blue eyes moved toward the man she's just helped, and with the light, found he only had **one** green _pulsating_ eye.


	11. Up And Over- Betrayal

"Maggie, duck!" Sasha shot the walker by her shoulder. "We have to get outta here."

"What about Carol?" Maggie thrusted the blade into the decomposing skull of the male in front of her, maggots fell from its eye sockets as she withdrew her knife.

"We'll have to come back for her." Sasha climbed into the truck. "C'mon!"

Maggie grasped the shoulder the woman by her and pierced her brain though her neck, tossing her at the walkers coming her way. She climbed into the bed of the truck and scanned for Carol, but there was no sign of her. "Drive." She bashed the heel of her military-fashioned boot in the face of a nearby walker as Sasha started the car and drove off, heading back to the camp.

_We'll be back for Carol. Just stay hidden._ Maggie sat down and looked once more for Carol. She sighed and hated leaving her, but they had no choice. Carol could protect herself from walkers long enough for them to draw them away from the store. Maggie didn't have any worries.

She ran her hand through her hair and found a slimy, fat maggot wriggling around in her brown hair. She pulled it out and eyed it, flicking it off her fingers and wiping her hand on her jeans. There weren't enough showers before the apocalypse, and there won't be enough now.

– – –

Daryl hoisted Michonne up and over the wall, she landed on her feet and quickly hid behind a building as a car rolled by, Daryl and Rick flattened their backs against the wall, the gates came open, and a black SUV came out of the compound. A man called to the passenger, and the voice that came back made Daryl, Rick and Michonne stop breathing. It was a voice that would never leave any of them. The Governor's voice. They were going on a run, and it made Rick glad his people were safe miles away.

They waited until he was gone before moving, Michonne had taken out both guards and opened the gate. Looking around, there were no other people. They checked the homes, and only three of them had people in them. A young man who seemed to be busy working on a project occupied one of the homes, and a group of young or old woman—six or seven—were in the house next to it, and a house that only had a young boy and a woman. They found a house that the Governor inhabited, Michonne found list of their names, both originally from Woodbury and those originally from the prison, and he had her name at the top. She was his first priority, as he was hers. She noticed an odd line over Carol's name, and she wondered why it was there. She noticed the names of those who were ill and died were on there.

She scoffed. "He's been watching us."

"I'm not surprised." Rick didn't move to see the list.

Daryl picked it up. "Even has our dead on here." He flipped the page and found a list of torture devices. "Ain't no Sunday dinner list." He tossed it on the table where Rick could see it. "He's been plannin' for months."

Rick turned the pages and found details of what Phillip was going to do with him and Michonne and the rest of them. He covered his mouth with his fist, his body shaking in rage at the mere suggestion of someone coming at his people like this. He gritted his teeth and paced the length of the table that stood beside him. "All right." He met their faces. "We need to end this. Tonight."

"I doubt these people know what he did to his own, how he turned on them," Michonne stated. "We might be able to get a few reinforcements."

"No. No, we can't risk someone telling him. It's just us. He has no leverage against us. We've moved on, so he has nothing." He looked over the collection of papers that lay on the table, and he found the blueprints for the compound. "Okay, so the main gate's the only exit."

Michonne move around the table and peered at the blueprints. "Once he's inside, he won't be getting out. We'll need to set some barbed wire to slash his tires." Rick met her eyes with a question she already had the answer for. "Saw some behind the church."

"Amen." Daryl crossed his arms.

"You and Daryl can place it in front of the gate, and I'll try to find some things to slow down his men—Martinez and that bowman. I'll need more ammo and guns." He scanned the room and saw a shotgun on the wall. "Let's see if there any bullets they might have left."

Daryl slid off the table and swept the upstairs, Rick pulled the shotgun off the wall and found it loaded. He bent down and looked for any extra ammo.

"So, we aren't going to talk about it?" Michonne asked as she dug out bullets hidden in the line of the sofa.

"This isn't a good time."

"There's no better time than the present, Rick." She tossed the box at him. "Find anything?"

"Nada." Daryl padded down the stairs. "Just a lotta bags. Empty bags."

"Probably for easy disposal."

"Of what?" Rick straightened up. "He doesn't know where we are."

Suddenly a bright light flicked on inside the house, Rick covered his eyes with his hand, Daryl turned his head, and Michonne pulled out her blade. Through a megaphone, they heard a screech, and the voice they heard wasn't the voice they expected. It wasn't the Governor—

– – –

_ Carol gasped and grabbed her knife, plunging it into his chest, but he didn't cry out. He bared his teeth and someone grabbed her. He pulled it out, blood dripped down his shirt, and he looked at his blood like he hadn't expected it to be red. Human._

_ "I love when the put up a fight." He grasped her chin. "And who should I send my thank you card to?"_

_ She didn't respond._

_ He chuckled. "Is every woman at your camp so damn closed-mouthed?" He noticed a cut on her chest and reached out and traced it. "You're Carol. Yeah, I've heard all about you," he leaned close, "and the Dixon boy."_

_ She kept her composure._

_ He smiled. "It'll be fun," he ran the bloody knife along her jaw line, "breaking you." He grasped a needle from the bowman's belt and grasped her arm nearest to him, pulling the sleeve back. He jerked her arm out and slid the needle into the tender flesh of her arm. He pulled her against him as the drug quickly too affect._

_ "Isn't a sedative to subtle for you?" Carol asked as it ran through her._

_ "Mama raised a gentleman," he replied. He set his hand on her forehead and pulled back so her eyes would open to the fourth man in the room. "Couldn't have done this without you, Bob."_

_ Bob stood less than ten feet away, nursing a bottle of what appeared to be vodka, his eyes bloodshot, but he wasn't completely wasted yet. He traded them in for a bottle of vodka. Everyone back at the camp was at risk, because this dumb son of a bitch wanted to drink his life away. Lizzie and Mika and Judith and Carl and Beth were too young to be subjected to the torments he had in mind, and the others would just die. The ones he wanted weren't at camp, but he would find them and kill them and make Rick watch it all. But before that, he would torture her just for the hell of it._

_ He grabbed Carol's arm and half-led, half-dragged her out since the drug made her limp. He forced her into the car, Martinez climbed in behind her, the Governor got in the drivers' seat, and the bowman got in the passenger seat. Her vision fogged over, and she passed out, unable to see where she was going or track how far they'd taken her from the town._

Her eyes fluttered open, and she jolted. The Governor sat across from her on a stool, watching with her with the eye of a hawk, and he rose when she finally came to, strapped in a chair by leather. A table beside her was covered in a white cloth, but the way it laid on the table indicated there were tools underneath.

His eye followed hers and the pupil dilated. "Curious?" He stood up and removed the sheet, running his hands over his..."collection". "You'd be surprised at what toys can be used as makeshift weapons." He moved behind her and set his hands on her small shoulders, but she didn't jump. "Tell me, Carol, are you Daryl Dixon's girl?"

She stared straighten ahead and didn't flinch.

He chuckled darkly at that. "You're the silent type, are you? We'll see about that." He ran his fingers through the small curls at the nape of her neck, and he won a shudder out of her, but didn't know her mind instantaneously was remembering when Daryl did the same thing. "Now, we have a lot of time to get to know each other." He reached down and began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing a tank top underneath it. "And we have at least...five basic torture groups to brush over." He rubbed her shoulders roughly. "We have Blunt, Sharp, Cold, Hot and Loud. I just don't know where to begin. Do you have a preference?"

She looked up and met his eye. "Go to hell."

"Sharp it is." He picked up her brass knuckle knife and brought it up to her chin. "We'll see just how talkative you become."

Outside the room, Martinez heard a bloodcurdling scream, and he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes, praying that she passed out from pain quickly. Thankfully, the bowman wasn't keeping watch with him, because he woulda been in that chair next for what he was planning.


	12. A Long Time Coming

[Have a great Thanksgiving everyone! I'll be posting next week!]

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead**

Rick approached the window and drew back the curtain, revealing the slender figure of the drunken man who nearly killed three of his immediate family. He saw the bowman beside him, wielding a .38 and a semi-automatic and no bow. They were the only two in sight, so Rick, Daryl and Michonne had the upper hand.

"Step out of the house," Bob announced through the megaphone.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" Daryl roared.

Michonne scoffed loudly. "The rats—that was him." She wasn't even surprised. He always seemed like a weak-hearted son of a bitch. "Rats as food, and with scent of blood traveling through the air drawing in walkers and our walls come crumbling down. Easy prey."

"Asshole," Daryl hissed. "Shoulda feed him to those walkers. Would've saved us some trouble."

"Shh, shh." Rick listened.

"We don't want to kill her—"

"Yes, we do," the bowman interrupted.

"But we will."

"Her?" Rick's brow creased. Her who? "Her?" He shouted out at them.

"What's her name?" Bob tried to recall.

"Think he grabbed Maggie or Beth?" Daryl asked. "Or Carol or Sasha?"

"No. No, they would've fought back."

Distantly, a car pulled up, and the Governor stepped out, blood soaking his shirt. He walked over to the house and chuckled deeply. "Rick Grimes! Good to see you again." He didn't need the megaphone. His voice boomed enough. It made their bones curl up with angry and repulsion.

"That ain't his blood," Daryl murmured. "Gotta be one of ours."

"She has—had quite a fighting spirit. I hate to see that die, but like you, she had to die." He held up a knife that was all too familiar to Rick, and he quickly moved to block Daryl's view. "If you wanna say goodbye, you'll wanna come out now. She doesn't have much time left."

"Wait." Michonne leaned into the sill. "Isn't that—?"

"Daryl, go out the back window," Rick instructed. "Michonne, stay here. I'm going out."

"What?" Michonne hissed. "The hell you are. If anyone goes out, it's me."

"No. No, he'll kill you on sight. I'm going." He removed pulled out his gun and handed it to her.

She eyed him and took it. "I'll make sure it's fully loaded _when_ you get back."

"Can't win with you, can I?"

"No, and you never will." She grasped the collar of his shirt and kissed him, Daryl averted his eyes and checked to see if he could even fit out the back window—he could. She pulled back and crouched down on her knees.

Rick gripped the doorknob, nodding at Daryl to go now, and Rick pulled the door open.

– – –

_Daryl paced the in front of the car then stopped and climbed onto the hood of the car, his elbows resting on his knees. He reached into his battered poncho and found the watch Rick had given him. It was Carol's from Ed. He despised the idea that she kept something that bastard gave her for so long, but that small broken watch made him think. He'd only heard those three words a couple of times from his mother, but he was young then, and it didn't stick. Being called a worthless piece of shit...a mistake in human form...a bastard child for most of his life, he couldn't understand how Carol loved him. He barely felt like a husk of a man, but when he was with her, he felt...enough. He felt like she was caressing away all the hideous scars on his body, and he never wanted that feeling to end. He had to make a decision, and he had to have the confidence to mean it._

_ He grunted and looked up at the night sky. He remembered the jasper he picked up, and he dug it out. Kid died before he could ever give it to him. He didn't want that to happen with Carol. So many times he almost lost her, and so many times he just idly stood by and let time just waste. From what Carl told him, Axel was making moves on her before he died. It scared him that other men wanted what he wanted, and he knew that Axel could've won her heart. He wasn't...complicated, wasn't as idiotic as Daryl, and was probably funnier and more charming._

_ He could practically hear Carol's voice telling him not to let himself get down and that made him smile. He set the jasper in his pocket and noticed a store that caught his eye. In the morning, he would check it out. For now, he focused on the empty street before him, alert._

_––_

_ He wasn't sure what had happened, and he wasn't sure who stared it, but somehow in arguing over who got the bed or got the couch, he and Michonne had kissed. Yes, he or she had leaned forward and kissed the other. He wasn't quite sure just how it happened, but what he was sure of was it wasn't going to stop. But it was going to stop. It stopped now._

_ He grasped her shoulders and pulled her back to hold her at arm's length. He cleared his throat and met her eyes. "I—I can't." His wedding ring weighed down his entire body. "I can't."_

_ She understood. Of course she understood. "How long has it been since she died?"_

_ "About a year now," he replied. "But I'm just not ready."_

_ "I know." Her eyes were softening. "But I'm just better at show than tell."_

_ There was an awkward moment before they decided to go to bed, Rick sat down in the chair across from the bed, and Michonne was on the couch, legs on the arm, hands behind her head, gazing at the ceiling. Rick kept his eyes on the floor—definitely not the bed or Michonne. _

_ A beat—an even more awkward one._

_ "I had a little girl," Michonne whispered, the dark cloaking her face as her eyes burned, her lips trembled, but she kept her voice stable. "She was two, asthmatic and shy and beautiful." She could see Danai, all dressed up in her little blue dress, smiling, stumbling over her little chubby legs to get to Mommy, her duck hair clips bouncing as she did so._

_ Rick swallowed hard. "Had?"_

_ Her throat tightened. "The night before the world went to hell, Danai, my boyfriend and I were getting ready to go out of town until the...infection ceased." The tears rolled down her cheeks, and it showed in her voice. "Two men broke into my apartment...murdered my boyfriend...and my little girl."_

_ Rick closed his eyes tightly._

_ "They were infected, but hadn't turned."_

_ "They...were the walkers that you carried on chains, right?"_

_ "They weren't human to begin with," she muttered. "They got what they deserved."_

_ He met her eyes in the dark room. "I lost my wife while she was in labor. Some...asshole set off the alarms in the prison, cut the chains so walkers got into the yard. I was—I was on the other side of the fence, a whole yard in between them, and in just those few minutes, my wife was gone. Maggie had to do a C-section and Carl kept her from turning. We lost T-dog that day, nearly lost Carol too."_

_ "Explains the hugs and tears." She sniffed, wiping her nose._

_ "You came in a tragic, but happy moment."_

_ "Only added to it too."_

_ "Saved two of my family," he corrected. "Two of our family."_

_ She smiled in the corner of her mouth. "Good night, Rick."_

_ "Night."_

– – –

Hershel kept his eye on the horizon as he waited for Maggie and Sasha to return. He noticed Bob was missing, but he wasn't going to concern himself with him. He didn't trust Bob, but he was so drunk when he left, Hershel doubted he even knew where he was going, let alone where he came from. He had no pity for a fool, never did.

Maggie ran up the hill without the supplies or Sasha in sight and Hershel met her halfway. She was breathless, he grabbed a bottle of water, and she chugged it.

"It's him, Daddy." She looked behind him. "The Governor. Bob was talkin' to him, and Sasha followed them, but I had to get back and tell you. We pushed the truck into the woods, so Sasha can come back at any time, but we couldn't find Carol. She was just gone."

Hershel cursed. They'd lost four of their fighters, Carol was AWOL, and he had nowhere to move them. He did the only thing he could do: hide. He and Maggie made sure everyone was safe in their rooms and no lights were on, Lizzie and Mika were down in one with Carl, Judith and Beth, and thank the Lord Judith was out cold. Maggie and Glenn stayed in eight and ten with the elderly and wounded, both armed, and Hershel was hidden outside with a rifle. They'd hidden the remaining car with leaves and branches.

Lizzie hugged her legs close, Mika was getting comfort from Beth, who had a gun, along with Carl, and Lizzie had her knife. Mika had left hers in their apartment. She didn't like to carry it.

Outside, a long bang sounded, Lizzie gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, and wished Carol was there. She felt something touch her hand, and then she realized it was a hand. Carl's hand. She opened her eyes and found him comfortingly holding her hand. He offered her a reassuring smile, and she felt less scared. She closed her hand around the knife at her hip—Daryl had given her his holsters when he found a better one. She swallowed and squeezed his hand back, nodding once. They would be ready if the worse should occur.

Beth handed Mika her knife and crawled over to the doorway, peering out to see men walking by, and she held a finger to her lips. Lizzie gripped the knife and Carl's hand tighter, Mika dug her nails into the rug, and Carl was ready. He would kill them if he had to. He didn't want Lizzie or Mika to see it, didn't want him to become cold like he was, but if it came down to it, he would have no choice. No one could be protected by this world, and he knew that. Lizzie and Mika need to learn that too, especially Lizzie. He would have to show her. Somehow. Slowly.

"Wait here." Beth pushed the front door open and crawled out, glancing to her left, but the men were gone. She stood up and felt goose bumps prickle up on her skin. Her blue eyes moved to a man behind her, but before she could move, a blow was taken to the back of her head, and they let her fall to the ground, busting her lip and bruising the right side of her face on the rough concrete. They left, taking only her. Leverage, young, cute—perfect for torture.

– – –

_Carol heard the Governor shuffling around behind her chair, her hands flinched in the leather binds, and he poured water down her back. She shuddered, closing her eyes, and she clenched her jaw as he reopened the wounds on the base of her neck, and she whimpered as hot blood ran down her back. She felt sick, but she had nothing to vomit up. He'd made sure of that._

_ Tony stepped in the room. "Gotta another one."_

_ Phillip looked up from his project and saw the girl his arms. His lips twitched. "Ah, this would be Beth." He walked over to her and flicked blond hair from her face. She was young, probably eighteen, probably a virgin too. He took her limp body from Tony and set her in the chair across from Carol, strapping her in, and she began to wake._

_ Beth felt her face aching, she could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, and her right eye was swollen half-closed. She must've gotten a black eye or something. She lifted her head and almost screamed. She shifted in the seat, the leather binds bit into her sensitive flesh, and she saw an unfamiliar room with bloody tools on the table in the middle of the room, but what made her quiver was the sight of Carol. She had blood soaking through her clothes, she was only in her seat by the bindings, and she looked so pale...almost dead._

_ "Carol?" Beth whispered. "Carol, please."_

_ "She won't wake."_

_ She whipped her head around and saw the Governor before her. Maggie had described him to her, and he was even more disgusting in person. She guarded her eyes, but fear was welling up inside of her. "You tortured her."_

_ "I tend to do that." He leaned against the door._

_ "Why? What do you intend to do with us?" Beth searched his...er, eye. "Hmm? Rape us? Beat us to death?"_

_ He chuckled. "I'm going to kill you both in the end, and then...set your reanimates selves down upon your group."_

_ She tensed. Daddy. She would never want to put him through having to kill his own daughter. And Daryl. God, he couldn't do that to Carol, especially not after what'd they been through. Beth knew Daryl loved Carol and it would probably kill the last of him. Carol was his lifeline, his humanity, and it didn't take a genius to see it. Daryl would be destroyed if he had to kill walker Carol. "Bastard," she cursed._

_ He strode over to her and lifted blond hair off her neck, her body tensed, and she tightly closed her eyes. He smelled her neck, she locked her jaw air-tight, and he sliced her hair tie out, causing blond hair to fall down her shoulders. He removed the braid like he used to do for Penny, and he picked up a hairbrush. He ran it through her hair, and Beth felt very confused as he brushed the knots and tangles out of her hair._

_ Once he was done, he smoothed it down and tucked it behind her ears, leaning down. "I like blonds."_

_ "I don't care what you like," she spat. "In the end, you'll be dead."_

_ "I wouldn't be too sure about that, sweetheart." He slipped a piece of wire around her neck, she gagged, and he brought her head back. "I really wouldn't be too sure about that."_

_ Carol heard a strangling sound and looked up. For a second her vision cleared, and she saw Beth in the chair across from her. Phillip removed the wire before he killed her, she coughed and gasped in air, and he stroked her hair once, leaving the room, and she saw him gathering another set of tools, but of a different manner. They could be used for both pain...and pleasure._


	13. An Echo

_Beth's screamed echoed down the hallway, Carol tried to free her hand, using the leather to open a wound on her hand, but it was too tight for her to slip her hand out, and Beth's screams escalated. He drove the blunt object into her forearm, blood slowly rolled down her pale skin, and he finally stopped when Beth fainted. Carol presumed he couldn't get full satisfaction unless Beth was awake._

_ He wiped the blood off the weapon. "Weak, this one." He kicked her feet out of his way to the door. "I know you're awake."_

_ Carol lifted her head. "Do you want to cheer you on...?" She saw his jaw tightened. "God, no wonder Andrea didn't want to sleep with you to kill you. You probably last...what? Four seconds?" She knew how to push a man's buttons. Being married to Ed, she knew all the right things to say to get hit. "Its wonder you ever managed to have a child, I bet every woman you've ever been with were confused when it was over before it started._

_ He struck her hard across the face, she felt a tooth in the back of her mouth land on her tongue, and he grasped a knife. "Let's see how easily they put you down." He slit her wrists. "Beth here will be your first meal." He opened the door. "Don't choke." He left._

_ Carol spat out her blood and tooth, and she began to gnaw at the leather, her wrists were growing numb. She found a worn piece and chewed at it, and it slowly gave. The blood was pooling below her chair and she felt weak. No food, constant physical and verbal abuse—she hadn't felt this bad since Ed. She forced herself to keep going, but the black waves of unconsciousness took her under._

_ "Carol, no!" Beth screamed. "Carol, please." She was too beaten to even try to get out of her restraints, but she had. She'd end up like Andrea if she didn't. She struggled, trying to free her hands or her feet, but it was pointless. They were too tight, too stiff. She began to cry as they broke her skin, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream, "HELP!"_

_ Phillip smiled as he left the building. Music to his ears._

– – –

_Martinez couldn't take it anymore. That girl could be his daughter, and that woman didn't deserve that. The Governor had pushed his luck, and Martinez was sick of watching as he callously killed men in cold blood, watching him slaughter loyal men and woman who stood by him. No. He couldn't stand by him anymore. He had to make a choice, and it was made the minute Phillip pulled the trigger on his own people. He would help them, and the Governor would kill him for it, but at least his conscience would be clear._

_ Tony waltzed up to Martinez. "Unlock the door. Gov wants the girl."_

_ Martinez eyed him skeptically. "No can do. I gotta hear it from him."_

_ Tony scoffed. "Open the damn door."_

_ Martinez chuckled. "Go to hell, because you aren't touching that girl. Best go find a closet."_

_ Tony cracked his jaw and smiled. "We'll see." He walked off._

_ Piece of white trash. Martinez shifted his weight and waited until the door shut. Phillip would be back soon. He always came back._

– – –

Rick stepped out of the house with his hands in the air. "Been a long time comin'."

"Almost too long." He put a gun to his forehead. "On your knees."

"I don't see that happening." Rick glanced around. There were no other men around, just these three. If Daryl got the bowman, Rick could take out Bob, and then they would deal with the Governor. Rick had an extra gut tucked beneath his belt, he could easily reach it, and Phillip wouldn't kill him without knowing where Michonne was. If what he said was true—and it seemed to be—Carol was already gone, and he had no leverage. This would end here.

"Did you really think I would let you come in here unaware?" He tilted his head slightly. "Come on out, Michonne! I can smell your bitch."

Daryl crouched down beside the house and found a way up to the roof. He shouldered his crossbow and climbed up the nearby ladder. He stayed low to the ground as he inched across the roof and was able to peer over the edge without being seen. He positioned his crossbow for the Governor's head, aiming at the center of his forehead, but something caught his eye. He thought he saw a girl run by, so he looked over for a moment, and a gunshot rang out. Daryl gripped his arm as the bullet pierced his flesh. "Son of a bitch," he groaned.

"Think your redneck can outsmart me?" Phillip lowered his gun. "Ah, ah, ah." He checked his watch. "It's almost time for this overture to be over."

Overture? Rick felt confused. "What are you plannin'?"

"Daryl," Phillip called, "your woman's missing you somethin' awful. She must be...so desperate for food, she'd even eat you by now."

Daryl tensed and the pain in his arm ceased. _She has—had quite a fighting spirit. I hate to see that die... It was Carol. She was the she the Governor had referred to. It was her blood that soaked his clothes. He had Carol. He had somehow kidnapped Carol and he...had killed her. She was...a walker? _His mind reeled, and he felt sick. He could see the changes in his head—the glint of sweat on her brow, the labored breathing, her blood...everywhere. It was only a matter of time now. She might already be reanimating somewhere within the compound. When he killed Merle, he was so angry and so sad. He couldn't do it with Carol. He couldn't kill her. Killing Dale to end his suffering was out of kindness, Merle wasn't himself anymore, but Carol—how could he do what he had to do? It was Carol. Carol was different—special, maybe even more so than Sophia. Carol meant more to him than anyone. She made him make sense. She was his sunlight in a raging storm. She was his rock through it all. She brought him back after Sophia and after Merle. She was his sanity, a forced to be reckoned with. And yet she faced the same fate as her husband, her daughter, Dale, T-dog, Lori, Andrea, Amy, Shane. Would the list ever stop? How could he kill the woman who loved him beyond all his faults? How can he kill...Carol? It couldn't be Rick, couldn't be Michonne. It had to be him.

The world tilted and the blood seeped into the gray background. Daryl lied very still for a moment, and then he made his move. He shot an arrow at Phillip that pierced through Bob's head as the Governor moved the man in front of him. He tossed his now dead body on the ground.

Rick dove behind the car in the yard as Phillip popped off rounds at him, grazing Rick in the thigh; Daryl took out the bowman before he could fire at him and climbed down the ladder, ignoring his gunshot wound. Daryl crept along the side of the house, Rick looked for a way out of the frying pan, and Michonne came up with a plan. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table, and using her blade tore her shirt's hem. She removed the cork and stuffed the cloth into the bottle, looking for a lighter or match.

Phillip opened the back of the mailman's car, walkers stumbled out, and Rick cursed and tried to take aim, but Phillip shot at his hand. "It all ends here!"

"Yes, it does." Michonne threw the burning cloth at him and took out two walkers before they reached Rick. She saw the blood. "You should learn to dodge."

"Thanks, I'll take that into consideration."

She saw Phillip approaching them, she cursed and unsheathed her blade. She stood up and went to lunge, but an arrow sliced the air...


	14. Hold On

_Maggie padded down the stairs. "Beth? Carl?" She checked numbers five through two, and she found Lizzie, Carl and Mika in one, huddled up in the room with Judith sleeping in her crib. "Hey." She dropped down on her knees. "You guys okay?"_

_ "Yeah," Lizzie answered._

_ "Where's Beth?" Carl, Lizzie and Maggie asked at the same time._

_ "You don't know?" Mika exclaimed._

_ "She was supposed to be in here." Maggie stood up. "Stay in here, okay?"_

_ "But—wait." Carl went after her. "Did they take her? Beth?"_

_ "I don't know, but it's possible. They would've left without takin' someone. Stay here. Daddy." She jogged over to him. "They got Beth."_

_ Hershel paled. Beth. No. He would much rather it had been someone else—anyone else. Maggie can take care of herself and anyone under her wing, but Beth's a child. She's never been exposed to this world as Maggie has. She's killed one, possibly two or three, walkers without a fence being in between. She can't endure what the Governor has in mind, and Hershel would gladly give his live to spare her from what that sick bastard intended to do. They had to get her back. _He_ had to get her back. "We're going after them."_

_ "Daddy, you can't." She glanced at his leg._

_ "I can't sit here and do nothing!"_

_ "I know. I can't either, but someone needs to stay with the kids. I'll find someone else." Probably Sasha, who's already there. "Leave this to me. I'll bring her back. I promise, Daddy."_

_ He sighed, and hated the walker that took his lower leg. He was so conflicted, and he didn't want to leave his little girl out there, but Maggie was more than capable, and Sasha would be there too, no doubt. They would bring Beth back safely. They had to. "Fine, but be careful." He caught her arm. "If you get the chance, shoot that bastard between the eyes."_

_ Maggie nodded and cleared off the car they'd hidden. She grabbed a bag from one and then headed to that car as Hershel and Lizzie saw to the gate. She heard Carl before he spoke. "No," she said without turning around._

_ "Let me go with you." Carl followed her every step. "I'm a good shot. My father allowed me to go on a run with him, so you know I'm old enough. I'm reliable, too, Maggie, please!"_

_ "No. I can't allow you to come." She set her bag in the car. "Stay here and protect this camp."_

_ "You can't expect me to sit back! It's Beth! I care about her too!"_

_ Glenn saw Carl and Maggie arguing, he jogged over to them and found out what happened. He walked around to the side of the car. "I'm going with you."_

_ Maggie nodded._

_ "What? He can go, but I can't?" Carl exclaimed. "That's bullshit!"_

_ She sighed. "Carl, Dad can't do this alone, and Lizzie...isn't grasping the walker situation well. I need you here to protect this camp. You are the only one here who can protect these people. You're a born leader, and they need you. I'll bring her back. She's my sister, and I'd rather die than let that bastard hurt her." She climbed into the car and drove. Once she was out of the view, she pushed the gas even harder. He was not going to do what he did to me to Beth. She's too young, and she doesn't need for it to happen like that, not that way, not forced. If he even touches her, I'll chop his dick off and feed it to him. I'll make that son of a bitch wish he'd died that day, when he invaded the prison._

_ Her grip tightened on the wheel, and Glenn reached over and set his hand over hers, squeezing. They would get her. They had to._

– – –

_Martinez gave a nod at the Governor as he passed by, the women had stopped screaming, and he waited until the Governor was completely gone. He went inside and found her small body on the floor, bleeding through her shirt. He dropped to his knees and pushed her shirt up. All shallow wounds, but they would make her bleed out, especially her wrists that were caked with dry blood, but it was still flowing. He removed his belt and quickly tightened it around her small wrist, and he used hers for the other._

_ The other girl wasn't as badly wounded, so he would get her next. He had to do...something with Carol. He'd turn her over to the Doc then come back for the girl. "Hold on, Lola." He scooped her up and carried her out of the room, finding Tony on the other side of the door. Shit._

_ He did a retake. "Either you like 'em seasoned or you're a damn traitor." He punched Martinez in the stomach, but in Tony's fist was concealed blade, and he punctured Martinez's stomach, causing him to topple over, nearly dropping Carol on her head. The thing was Martinez knew how to fake being injured. He used to play dead with his little girl, scared the hell outta her, so he used it now._

_ Tony kicked his hand and noticed the woman had slit wrists. He saw the young girl was unconscious. "Hello, Blondie." He released her binds, her fingers twitched, and he moved blond hair out of her face. "Such a damn shame." He trailed his finger downward toward her breasts._

_ Beth shouted and shoved him back with every ounce of force in her aching body, grabbing the knife off the tray and plunging it into his chest. She repeatedly stabbed him until he blood ran down his mouth and he fell back. She was panting heavily, and she saw Carol. She scurried over to her. "Carol? Oh, my God." She touched her bloody wrists. What was she gonna do? She can't possibly lift Carol up. What would Daddy to? Stitch her up? She needs blood. She mentioned her blood type a long time ago in a walker joke, but there's no way nobody has it. They ain't that lucky._

_ Martinez sat up, Beth gasped and went to get the knife out of the perverted man's chest, but Martinez caught her ankle and dragged her back. "No, don't. I'm helping you. Just trust me. We don't have time to argue. The Governor could be back any minute now. "_

_ Beth nodded. "Okay. How do we help her?"_

_ Martinez met her eyes. "A bullet to head is all we can do now."_

_ "What?" Her eyes were wide. "No. She's breathin'. I can see her breathin'. We gotta get a doctor. We gotta—"_

_ "We gotta get you out of here. You need to get yourself out." He handed her a gun. "Take the car just outside. The keys are inside. If I don't make it at least you will."_

_ "But—"_

_ "Go. I'll take care of her."_

_ Beth felt conflicted, but she had to do what she had to do. She had to kill the Governor. She nodded at the man and ran out of the building as he set his hand over his bleeding wound, groaning._

_ Damn, Tony got him good._

_––_

Beth found the car, but she also found Rick and Michonne and the Governor and Daryl. She saw him going over to Rick and Michonne, and she ran over to them. She got caught by a wave of walkers, and she groaned in frustration and took them out.

A booming shot rang out, Beth gasped, and the sound echoed through the community—through their bones.

––


	15. Compressions

Sweat dripped down the brow as the first bullet rattled the body, tearing the cloth, peeling back the flesh, embedding itself into the body. It wasn't a clean shot, and the bullet didn't go clean through. Not that shot, so he pulled the trigger back again and again and again, blood splattered on the concrete, and the empty shells landed with a _ding_ on the ground. Five _dings_ sounded before the sound stopped—the weapon had no more bullets. A laugh escaped his lips, he turned his head, staring in disbelief as the blood ran down his chest. His blood. He had thought of himself as a god and to be taken down by a mere bullet was so mortal. He crumpled to the ground like paper, the arrow lodged into his chest.

Daryl gripped his forearm. "Y'all right?"

Rick nodded.

"Beth?" Michonne started toward her. "Beth!"

Beth ran over to her and hugged her; Michonne tensed, but let her do it. Beth released her and she dropped to her knees when she to look over Rick, but her blue eyes moved automatically to Daryl. She began to cry.

"What the hell? When did that asshole get you?" Daryl asked her.

She just sobbed. "Carol's—"

"Carol." He sat back, knowing without having to be told, because her tears and whimpers said it all. She was gone. He didn't care who was there, because the world had just—stopped. He fell back onto the grass, covering his face with hands. He couldn't cry. He was too upset to cry, but the whispers and sobs tore through his body, but didn't meet up at his mouth or eyes. He was so distraught that he couldn't even express it.

– – –

The Governor was dead, they had a place was that safe and had food and houses, and they were all moved in, but it was a bitter victory. They were all sent to do chores—watering the veggie garden, finding out how many people were here and rounding them up to talk about things, looking for supplies, and so on. Rick couldn't ask Daryl to do anything, and even if he wanted to console Daryl, he couldn't. Daryl was just...gone. He was so overwrought when he found out Carol was dead. He immediately began to search for a body. After the last time, when he found her barely hanging on, he would love for that to happen again. Rick let him be, and he had Hershel tend to his wound. Hershel and Mark—the town's doctor. He looked about twelve; Daryl didn't let Mark touch, let alone look, at his gunshot wound. He waited for Hershel. Rick believed it was the hope of the physical pain over weighing the emotional pain.

Glenn opened a door and a walker came at him. He plunged his blade into his forehead and kicked it off. He groaned and found the torture room. He looked over all the blood-covered instruments, and he groaned. He saw blood everywhere, and he knew it was Carol's. He turned away and found Daryl behind him, his eyes trained on the blood.

"Daryl. I didn't hear you come in."

"I know." His eyes never moved.

"You should be resting. After a battle like last night, it's—" Glenn went to make a gesture with his hands, but knocked over the tool tray he'd been hiding from Daryl. "Shit!" He bent down and tried to hide them, but Daryl saw them. All of them, covered in the blood of the woman he loved.

"Son of bitch shoulda been fed to walkers," Daryl hissed. "It ain't enough. Killing him ain't enough. Bastard shoulda go through that too."

Glenn just nodded. "I agree." With what he did to Maggie and Merle—Glenn may hate Merle, but he loved Daryl, and Daryl didn't deserve to see that, let alone have to kill his own brother—he needed to be punished worse than five bullets and a bolt. It wasn't balanced, but the bastard's dead. They can't do anymore than that. If they could, he would endure everything he's ever dealt out his victims, especially Beth and Carol.

Daryl crossed his arms and glanced down. He noticed blood droplets. He followed them as they led him across the room, down a hall and to a room. Glenn followed him. He opened it and found Martinez. He pulled out his gun, and Martinez held his hands up.

"Stop!" He slowly stood up. "I'm not your enemy."

"Yes, you are," Glenn shot back.

"I tried to save her!" he informed them as Daryl began to pull the trigger. "I tried to help her!"

"Her?" Daryl grabbed by his shirt. "Carol? Man, you don't mention her!" He put the gun to his temple. "If you tried to help her, where's she at? Huh?"

Glenn noticed a few bottles around the room as Daryl interrogated Martinez. He picked up a nearly empty bottle of honey, and he saw blood on it. Huh. Odd. He started to turn when he heard a walker. He peered at the cracked door, and he set the jar down on the table and pulled out his knife. He grasped the handle and yanked it open, jumping back at the bodies that tumbled out. "Disgusting." They were all dead and weren't coming back.

"The hell?" Daryl looked at Martinez. "That your version of helpin'?"

"No, I didn't—"

"Shut the hell up." Daryl punched hard in the face and took aim.

"Daryl!" Glenn kicked the bodies to the side and found the remains of Carol.

Daryl didn't look. "Get it outta here."

Glenn frowned, but he didn't question. He wasn't so sure if he could look at Maggie if she looked like this, had died like this. It would've been horrible. He slid his arms underneath her, his hand brushed under her shirt, and he blinked. What? He moved his hand more under her shirt, and he put his ear to her chest. He faintly heard a heartbeat. He began to administrate CPR. He tipped her head back and forced air into her mouth, Daryl stared at him, and Martinez prayed she would breathe. If she did, he did. If she didn't, he would meet a fate worse than death. A pissed off, emotionally unstable Dixon. Merle was a sick son of a bitch on a good day.

"Come on," Glenn urged. "Come on, breathe." He began compressions again._ 1...2...3...4...5._

Daryl had never seen Glenn look so determined, and he wanted to tell him to stop. They ain't lucky enough—Daryl ain't lucky at all. Carol was gone. Whatever Glenn thought he heard or felt was his mind playin' tricks on him. It was pointless. "Glenn."

_1...2...3...—_


	16. O Positive

** I wasn't going to post this for a few days, but after reading my reviews, I feel that I should. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

"Glenn."

He didn't listen. He kept up the compressions and air.

"Damn it, Glenn. Carol's gone! Let's just...take her out to be buried." Daryl felt weak as he watched Glenn. Nothing was happening, her body just jolted from his forced, and Daryl felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't watch anymore. He turned his head.

_Cough. Coughing_.

Glenn stopped and held his hands up. "Carol?"

She wheezed, but her blue eyes opened. She couldn't move anything, but she was able to look over. Her eyes met Daryl's, and her hand ached to reach out and beckon him closer. She was too weak, and her eyes closed again.

"Hershel," Glenn murmured. "We need Hershel."

Daryl tossed his gun at Glenn and picked her up, not heeding his own injured forearm. He carried her quickly to the building where their injured went, but he only found Mark inside. He adjusted her in his arms, she groaned softly, and the sound tugged at his heart. She was still there. In pain, but still here. "Where's Hershel?"

"He just went across town to—" He looked up from his book. "Holy..." He dropped his book. "Get her on the table." He grabbed his stethoscope and put gloves on.

Daryl set her on the table that was covered with two thick clothes and had a pillow. He gently set her head on the pillow and lowered her legs. He watched Mark check her pulse and heartbeat. "You ain't touchin' her," he informed the young doctor.

Mark met his eyes. "She's going to die without medical attention. You need to get over the fact that I'm young, because I want to save this woman as much as you do! I know more than Hershel—who is a veterinarian, not a doctor. So, do us both a favor and save your arguments for another time." He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut her top, revealing a blood caked torso and still bleeding wounds. "Get some water and towels."

Daryl tore through the house, getting every towel, filling a dish with water, and he set them on the transportable table above her. He saw Mark frowning. "What?"

He showed Daryl the slit wrists. "She won't make it without a transfusion. We don't have that equipment here. Does anyone know her blood type even?"

Daryl scraped into the back of his mind, trying to recall. She made a joke about how the walkers wouldn't want a...a... Damn it. What blood type did she say?

Hershel came into the house and saw them. "Carol?" He looked amazed. "Where'd you find her?"

Daryl groaned. "Damn it, Hershel!" He just had it. It just came to him. _Son of a bitch_, he cursed.

He picked up her belt wrapped wrist and removed it, seeing the slits. He ran his thumb over it. "She needs blood." He met Mark's eyes. "You don't have the equipment, do you?"

"No. It went missing years before this, and I never ordered another one." He ran his hand through his hair.

"I have the equipment," Hershel reminded Daryl, "at the farm."

Daryl lifted his head. "It's been months since it got overrun. People coulda taken it by now."

Hershel shook his head. "What people who step foot on an overrun farm?"

Daryl felt a spark of hope. "We don't know her blood type."

"It's O Positive," Hershel recalled. "She joked a walker wouldn't want her blood, because it was too common."

Daryl was O negative. There had to be someone with that blood type. "I'm gonna try for the farm. I'm gonna talk to Rick and ask him to look for a matchin' blood type. Someone's gotta know." He wasn't giving up. Not now. "Could y'all give me a minute along with her?"

"I'll get Rick." Hershel set her wrist down and left the house. He found Rick and Michonne in house they'd chosen. They were feeding Judith, Carl was even laughing at joke one of them had made, so they were doing better. "Rick."

Rick turned and handed Judith to Michonne, who held her awkwardly for a moment then adjusted her and seemed to get the hang of feeding her. Rick met him by the door. "Daryl?"

"He found Carol."

Rick looked stunned. "Wait, alive? Or...as a walker?"

"Alive, but she needs blood. She's held on by sheer will so far, but it won't last."

"Okay. What do we do? They got the equipment?"

"No. Daryl's going back to the farm to get mine."

"What? He can't go back there. It was overrun, and with the herds that are pilin' up around that area, he'll never make it back."

"Would that stop you?" Hershel glanced over at Carl and Judith.

Rick hung his head and sighed. "What do you need?"

"Someone with O Positive blood."

"All right, I'll ask around, try to find someone. I need to talk to Daryl first." He started to leave.

"Give him a minute," Hershel suggested. "He's talkin' to Carol."

– – –

Glenn took Martinez to Rick at gunpoint, just to be careful. He wasn't armed, and from his injury, he wasn't dangerous. He had helped Beth escape, but he left Carol in a closet full of dead bodies to die, so he canceled out his good deed.

Rick and Michonne sat on the front steps of Rick's house, discussing their relationship. It was a tense conversation, but Rick had made a decision. It wasn't one that he would go back on. Like how he went back on how wouldn't leave Carl or Lori, because he did—quite often. Like how he wouldn't kill the living, and yet he's killed over four living men. Like he wouldn't sacrifice any of his own, but he left Carol on the side of the road. Like he would tell his family about Wayne...because he never mentioned the organ donor who saved their lives almost two years ago. But that was beside the point...

"How does it feel?" Michonne asked to begin the conversation.

"How does what feel?" Rick narrowed his eyes as he turned his head to face her, catching the rays of the sun.

"Not being the leader," Michonne replied. "Is it liberating or do you miss it?"

He sighed. "A bit of both, I guess."

"How do you intend to spend your days? Farming?" she teased.

"Well, I got some thoughts on that." He set his hand on her shoulder—it wasn't a long distance either. "But I should tell you: I'm better at show than tell."

She actually laughed. "Good, so am I."

Rick smiled, but it faded when he saw Glenn and Ceasar. He stood up, Michonne followed, and they met them halfway. The Governor's ex-lieutenant had been stabbed, and it looked like he'd gotten a beating. Rick was wary. The last time they trusted someone who claimed to be one of their own got one of them killed and another one tortured. Martinez wasn't one of theirs, but he could be. He was either with them or dead weight. That how it works these days.

"We found him with Carol," Glenn explained. "Claims he helped her, saved Beth."

"I want hear it from him." Rick locked his eyes with Ceaser's.

Martinez then explained his disdain of the Governor since killed the people who were loyal to him, and he didn't want to be a part of that. He only stayed, because no one leaves the Governor's side.

Rick eyed him.

"I'll do anything you ask. I won't be dead weight."

"I know you won't be." Rick glanced at Michonne. "I'll talk to the others. This kind of decision ain't up to me."

"Where do we put him until then?" Glenn asked.

"In the police station. Maggie and Sasha are in there, and they can watch him."

Glenn led Martinez to the police station, Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and Michonne saw Beth waving her over. She walked over to her, and Beth filled her in what Hershel had told her about Daryl returning to the farm. Glenn and Maggie overheard when Maggie was going to see if Mark could check out Martinez, who would have a concussion. They all agreed to help Daryl on his run without even asking for his permission. It was a suicide run otherwise, and it's what they do.

If people didn't come together at the end of days, then how pathetic is the human race?


	17. Just So You Know

He finished cleaning off her face, and she now resembled the woman who had broken him. Her eyes flinched at the cool water, but they didn't open. He gripped her hand in his. He stroked her palm and tried to think of something—anything to say. He wasn't good with words. He was probably worse at finding the right words than Merle. He knew how he wanted it to sound, but...he couldn't find the wording. He sighed deeply, and just said it in a nutshell.

"Nine lives, remember? You still got five," he murmured, "not zero. Hold on for a while longer." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Be back soon." He shouldered his crossbow and paused in the doorway. His grip tightened on the strap to his crossbow. He couldn't leave without saying it. If she was to die, the last thing he wanted her from him to hear was this: "Just so you know," he said softly, "I loved you first."

He exited the house.

––

"Hey, Daryl." Rick met him by the Hyundai. "I heard about Carol."

"Then you know what I'm doin'." He set a bag in the trunk and looked over the amount of arrows he had. He set the extras by the backpack and closed it. He walked around to the driver's side.

"Can you stop?" Rick closed the door when Daryl went to open it. "I know how much she means to you, but you can't go back there. You won't make it out."

Daryl's eyes flickered to his. "If you know how much she means to me, how can you be standin' here and askin' me to stay?"

Rick had no reply.

"You'd do the same thing. It ain't about me havin' a death wish. I gotta do what I gotta do." He opened the door and set his crossbow in the passenger seat. "I'm gonna get the equipment, and you ain't stoppin' me."

Rick opened his mouth, but Daryl cut him off.

"We don't kill the living. Askin' me not stay is gonna kill her," Daryl informed him. "Without her, I don't know where I'd be now. If you're askin' me to let her die, I'm still gone. I won't be in a group that ain't even gonna try to help her."

Rick exhaled. "Can I, at least, go with you?"

"I got it covered." He nodded his chin behind him.

Rick turned and found Michonne and Maggie and Glenn and Beth walking over to them. They had bags and weapons, and they loaded them in the trunk. Rick started to protest to taking such a large number, but they were all old enough to make their own decisions.

"Beth, you're injured," Rick argued.

"So?" Beth's icy eyes met his. "She wouldn't be injured if I wouldn't have faked passin' out. I heard her talkin' to him, antagonizin' him to keep him away from me. I have to do this for her." She climbed into the backseat.

Maggie met his eyes. "I owe it to her." She slid in after her.

Glenn held the door. "With Maggie goes my nation," was all he said, closing it behind him.

Michonne held her hand out. "I'd prefer to drive, especially if we're going into a herd area."

"You ain't ever gonna let that go," Daryl muttered, handing her the keys.

Rick stepped back as they got in the car and sighed heavily as they pulled out, the guard, Alex, opened the door for them, and they were off. Rick went checked in on Carl and Judith then on Carol. Mark had hooked up an IV to keep her from dehydrating, and he tended to the wounds on her torso and Hershel was stitching up the gash on her ankle—taken out by Phillip's own teeth.

"How's she doin'?" Rick looked over.

"As well as she can," Hershel replied. "We have another issue."

"What's that?" Rick shifted his weight.

"I didn't tell the angry man with a crossbow, but she has some sort of fragments in her system." Mark looked disgusted. They never should've let that man into their town. They don't even interact with each other, let alone strangers. You try to be nice though, and let the man in, but it all blows up in your face. "She needs to have them removed, and that's why we need the blood. She'd be fine if it weren't for that."

"Fragments? Like what? Bullets? Knives? Metal scraps?" Rick asked.

"No." Mark glanced between the two of them. "Possibly...fingers."

"Fingers?!" Rick exclaimed. "He made her eat fingers?"

Hershel looked ill.

"Possibly! Possibly! It may be something else, but I can't be sure. My equipment's out dated, and it's hard to tell, but something is definitely inside her stomach that's causing her harm."

Rick felt disgusted. How long did she endure his wrath? Hours? Days? Why was she outside of the camp? He told them not to let anyone in or out. Why did they need? Formula? Clothes? He needed to talk to Sasha. He couldn't handle his angry when he saw Carol so beaten and Beth... Beth wouldn't even let Hershel look at her. She had Maggie do it. What happened in that room? Rick set his hand over hers. She never even saw him coming, did she?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Glenn was right. They should've killed him when they had the chance. It would've spared a lot of lives. Andrea, Axel, Oscar, and even Merle. But what was done was done. They couldn't undo it, and it was only going to drag him down if he continued dwell on it. He did what he did, and the Governor's dead. It's sorted.

He released her hand and left, Hershel followed him with his eyes then continued to stitch her ankle, and Mark left to check their anesthetics. If he did the math correctly and added in the amount of walkers and how long it took them to kill them, he could perform the surgery in a day's time. They were all capable, and he knew they wouldn't be delayed. If they were...he would probably regret it. He hoped the angry crossbow man would be less inclined to hurt him if he gave him a sedative. He doubted that would help. Their leader would probably want to harm him as well. His intentions were good, and he wanted to help that woman. She reminded him so much of his... He swallowed hard. But she wasn't. He still needed to come to terms with it. He would save her, and hopefully that man would be back soon.

––

Carl explored their new home as his father spoke to the individuals who lived here, he found Lizzie in the garden, staring at a set of yellow flowers, and he approached her cautiously. She looked lost in thought, her hands under her chin, but when he stopped in front of her, she just sighed. Was she annoyed or sad? He couldn't tell.

"Hey."

"Hi," she muttered.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"I don't own the bench."

He sat down and studied the flowers then looked at her then the flowers...then her...then the flowers. How much more awkward can this get? "So, whatcha thinkin' about?"

"How did you cope with losing your mom?" Lizzie asked.

"Carol's not dead."

"She could be." She straightened up. "I don't want to lose her, but it seems like it comes back to that."

"I know what you mean. I've almost lost my dad a couple of times." He met her eyes. "She'll pull through."

She smiled lightly. "You're so weird."

"Weird?" He stared at her. "How am _I_ weird?"

"You come off as cold and dedicated, but you're really sweet." She moved the toe of her cowboy boot through dirt. "You try to act older than you are. Do you think you've earned your place on the front line or...what?"

Carl blinked. How much time did she spend thinking about him? Or is this all just now? "I...just want to protect our people. That's all I've ever wanted."

"And you do."

He felt his cheek flush. He suddenly wished he had this hat with him. "You should be with Carol. In case she wakes up, you know."

She stood up and paused in the doorway. "Thank you. And just so you know...you'll be a good leader someday." She walked over the building where Carol was being looked after.

Carl looked at the flowers. He's the weird one? She's just as weird, if not more.


	18. All Got Jobs

They all had specific jobs to do to get through this alive. Daryl and Glenn were going to the house, Maggie and Michonne were going to distract the walkers that were stumbling around the house, and Beth was their backup. The walkers had thinned out, luckily, but the door was broken down, and there was no telling how many were inside the house. Daryl and Glenn had their weapons—silent and loud, crossbow/machete and guns. Maggie had a machete as well, Michonne had her katana, Beth had a gun and was positioned by the car, and so if things got tight, she could drive around and pick them up.

Daryl and Glenn made their move, running to the house, Michonne and Maggie kept in a tight formation—back to back—and Beth waited, watching. Daryl shot a walker by the door with an arrow; Glenn scanned the front room as the girls thinned out the herd outside.

Glenn recalled what Hershel said about the machine's location; Daryl checked the house and found some items they left behind. He found the medical equipment in the drawer in the bedroom where Carl had his surgery. He put it in his backpack and shouldered. Piece of cake.

Glenn swept the upstairs for things Maggie wanted, Daryl gazed at the item he'd taken while on the run to look for a new, secure place. It was a silver band diamond engagement ring. He wasn't one for marriage, but the idea behind it—having someone eternally bound to you, til death parts you—he wanted that for him and Carol. For most of her life, she was Carol Peletier. He wanted her to be Carol Dixon. He loved the sound of that. He didn't want Ed to haunt her live anymore, not even in her name.

Glenn padded down the stairs and grabbed the bag Daryl held out, stuffing in the items that didn't fit in his. He caught Daryl's ring before he placed it back in his pocket. "Whoa, Daryl Dixon holding an engagement ring. Shit just got real," he teased.

Daryl socked him in the arm and started for the door.

"What? Carol can do it, and I can't? How sexist is that?"

Daryl's lip twitched. "It's for Carol, got it from a store on our run."

"Yeah? I thought it was for Michonne."

Daryl glared. "I'm bein' serious."

Glenn held back a laugh. "You gonna give it to her or is it gonna collect dust? It's a pretty nice dust collector, though."

"Nice?" Daryl frowned. He didn't want it to be nice; and as stupid and ridiculous as it was, he wanted it to be perfect. That's what Carol was to him.

"She'll love it. At least you got yours from a store; I got mine off a walker." Glenn shook his head. "I washed it off, but who knows where that walker had been."

"When she wakes, I'm gonna give it to her. Don't know where, but I'm not wastin' no more time."

Glenn smiled. "This has been a long time coming. I'm happy for you two. You deserve it."

"Never thought about it," Daryl admitted. "Probably wouldn't have happened if I had to make the first move."

Glenn didn't want to admit that he was right. If Carol hadn't gotten so gutsy, they would probably be friend zoned forever. "So, do you know how you're gonna ask?"

"Hell, no."

Glenn laughed. "Think about it on the way back. Let's go." He brushed by him, the ring fell out of his pocket, and Daryl bent down to pick it up. "The girls cleared the field," Glenn told him, turning back. "Look out!"

As Daryl straightened up, a walker had crept up on him and was now biting into his shoulder; Daryl grasped his knife and stabbed its head. Glenn stared in horror as walkers pooled in from the back, they both rushed out of the house, Daryl grabbed the bolt from the walker he took out by the door and the girls followed them as they headed into the woods to get Beth, who was now killing walkers that were coming at the car. She caught a glimpse of the many walkers pouring out of the opening where the door was. Michonne ran by her and started the car as they all climbed inside.

– – –

Mark watched Hershel leave to check on Rick and how it was going talking to the others, Mark closed the door after him and locked it. He slipped on gloves and slid the needle with the liquid anesthetic into her IV. He watched as it went into her body, and he waited until he was sure she couldn't feel before he got the scalpel from the tray. He applied a light pressure to her stomach, and she didn't flinch like she did the first time. He paused for a moment, waiting for the last seconds of his calculation to fall into place, and he heard the clock tick as it reached the correct time, and he set the scalpel on her flesh, taking a deep breath, and he almost began when someone knocked on the door. He set scalpel down and moved the blanket back over her stomach.

He answered the door and found a small blond at the door. "Can I help you?"

She saw Carol, and she ran inside. "Carol." She grasped her hand.

He eyed them. Her daughter, perhaps. The woman could easily be a blond, but with her salt and pepper hair, it was hard to tell. Did she have this child with that man? He was suddenly curious to know, but it wasn't his place. He removed the gloves and approached her. "She'll be fine."

"I know." The young girl met his eyes, not afraid. "She's been through worse."

He smiled lightly. "She's tough, huh?"

"The toughest." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "I'm Lizzie."

"I'm Mark. Mark Slator." He hid the scalpel. "Your mom will be fine."

Lizzie didn't reply.

He left them be.

Lizzie sat down in the chair, grasping the side of the chair with her hands, watching her carefully. She thought about what Carl said, his responses, and she wondered why he was so stubborn. In ways, she was stubborn too. She had her reasons for why she said what she said and why her opinion on walkers is different than theirs. She wished Carl would see them like that too, but she supposed it was how their experiences with walkers went.

She swallowed and reached into her pocket. She pulled out the same yellow flowers that Carol had put behind her ear and placed them behind her ear. "Either way, you'll still be Carol to me, ma'am."


	19. Damn Romance Novel

"You were bit?" Maggie exclaimed. "Where? Let me see."

Daryl moved back. "I ain't bit."

"Let us see then," Glenn pressed.

Daryl shuffled out of his jacket. "It got my jacket." He frowned at the holes it left. Damn, this was his favorite jacket. He tossed it into the trunk and saw them all staring at him. "What? I got food on my face? Drive. Gotta get back."

Michonne pulled out, turning down the drive.

"Did you get it?" Glenn whispered.

"Get what?" Maggie asked from the front seat, adjusted the knife in her boot.

"Nothin'," Daryl replied.

"Don't sound like nothin'." She was interested. "What was it?"

Daryl propped his leg up on the console. "It ain't nothin' to concern yourself with."

Maggie glanced at Glenn, and Beth got curious. She pushed it the issue. "Does it involve Carol?"

He sent her a glare. "It ain't your business."

"So, it involves Carol." Beth nodded, and Maggie slightly smiled. "You two gonna tie the knot?"

He slouched in his seat and placed his bow on his lap. "Focus on gettin' better, 'cause you're bleedin'."

Beth looked down. "Oh, crap!" She reached into the backseat and pulled her pant leg up to her knee, adding pressure to the cloth.

They laid off him, Maggie handed Beth some string to tie the cloth around her leg until returned to the town, and Daryl felt the ring burning in pocket, and he scanned the area as Michonne drove. He took Glenn's advice and thought over how to give the ring to Carol. He'd never planned to get married. Hell, a relationship to him meant beer and sex. It's almost ironic that he found a woman he wanted to marry _after_ the world ends. He couldn't even begin to form the words to say. When it came to giving her hope about Sophia, it came from his heart. He meant it. He believed he would find her. He could do that again, but he didn't know how get that into words. He couldn't put his feelings in words. Just asking her seemed like an insult, and it wasn't how he wanted to ask.

Grunting slightly, he decided to think about it later. Right now, they needed to get back to the camp.

––

They arrived late at night, everyone but Michonne went to the building where Carol was, Hershel saw the blood on Beth, but she insisted Carol be dealt with first. They _almost_ had everything they need. There was only _one_ flaw in their plan, and it was a major one: no one here knew their blood type, and none of their group had that blood type or they just didn't know their blood type. Beth removed the bloody rag and stood up, Maggie and Glenn eyed her, and Hershel tried to stop her, but it didn't work.

"I'm O Positive," she confessed.

"Are you sure?" Daryl asked.

She nodded. "Gave blood last year at school for a blood drive and they told me." She went over to Hershel. "Here." She rolled up her sleeve and met his eyes. "Daddy, don't. Just take the blood."

Hershel set his hand over hers. "Prep Carol for surgery, Mark."

Daryl wanted to protest, and they saw it in his face, but Glenn and Maggie led him and Lizzie out. He did protest about that, but they didn't need to be crowded. Lizzie went to the house were Mika was, and Daryl followed, knowing Carol will want to be in that house too. He checked it out as Lizzie informed Mika of the surgery.

In the two-story house—that was a helluva lot nicer than his childhood... well, he wouldn't call it "home", but it was a roof over his head—it came with four bedrooms, two full baths, a fireplace, view of the garden, all wooden floor with throw rugs that weren't loud in color, and a basement. The master bedroom had a king sized bed that was loaded with pillows, a loaded closet with shoes and a few wrapped boxes, like for a birthday, and the dressers weren't completely stripped of clothing, and a lot of nice clothes were left behind. He recalled Carol talking about how Ed never let own "nice things" when they were married. She would like the variety.

He set his crossbow on the bed and picked through the woman's clothes. He noticed a few hidden pictures underneath the frilly shirts, and he left them be for now. He threw together an outfit then he wondered if it would be suitable for someone who should be relaxing. He crouched down and looked for a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He found a set with faded writing on it. It looked like a college sports team or something. He paused and wondered if she wanted something...prettier.

Women, he grumbled. Can't they just put on some damn sweat pants and a T-shirt and call it a day? He tossed them onto the bed and looked over himself. He went into the bathroom and tested the water . It surprisingly came on. It was ice cold, but it came on. He decided to clean himself up, washing all the dirt off. He didn't want to infect any of her wounds when he went to see her. He would look them over. He might not know what it's supposed to look like, but he would make sure that kid didn't screw anything up.

– – –

_"Surgery?" Daryl exclaimed, staring at Hershel like he'd just confessed to being Santa."What the hell for?"_

_ "It's just to be safe," Mark replied. "There were some abnormalities in her X-rays, and I want to investigate them, make sure they aren't detrimental to her health."_

_ "What kind of abnormalities?" Daryl stared him down._

_ "Just a few shadows near her abdomen. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about it."_

_ "Nothin' to worry about? You're cuttin' her openin' for nothin' ? Tell why I shouldn't be worry about, old man?"_

_ Rick grabbed Daryl by the arm. "Come on, Daryl, it's for her own good."_

_ He went, but not happily. "Anything happens to her, it's on your head!" he shouted at Mark._

_––_

They began the surgery, Daryl and Rick waited outside, Daryl was pacing back and forth while Rick sat on the steps, his eyes no longer watching Daryl pace as they began to cross. Lizzie and Mika were at the picnic tables a few feet away, staring at the door, and Carl was trying to reassure Lizzie from the look of it, but she was too busying watching the door.

He was livid. They weren't even going to tell him what they were cutting her open for. She wasn't a damn fetal pig in a biology class. She was a woman—_his_ woman—and he didn't like him playing doctor on his woman. He didn't like Mark, didn't trust him either. He could see Mark doing something stupid, and Mark better pray it wasn't 'detrimental to her health'.

Suddenly a loud scream sounded from within, Daryl recognized it instantly as Carol's, and he went for the door. Rick shot up and pushed Daryl back by his shoulders while Carl kept the girls back.

_Carol_. "I gotta see her! Let me go, Rick!" Daryl demanded. "Man, let me go!" He tried to break Rick's grip, but he couldn't. His heart was pounding, the scream came again, and his eyes burned. "The hell you doin' to her?!" Daryl shouted.

"Carol." Lizzie tried to get to the room, but Carl grabbed her by the waist. "Carl!"

He struggled to keep her there. She was stronger than she looked. "We—can't—interrupt!"

Shit! Daryl ran his hands through his hair, tugging hard as her screams died down, and he stepped back. What in the hell are they doing to her? Sounds like their killing her. How in the hell did she wake up? Didn't that dumbass give her sedatives? He knew that kid was too damn young. If that bastard kills her, Daryl would never let him live, and it wouldn't matter if his life became a waste, because without her, it isn't a life at all. Without her, he was nothing, nobody.

All of his life he longed to be enough, longed to belong to something—someone better, someone useful, someone who wasn't filling the air with toxins with each breath he took—and he molded himself into being someone...else. That molding became to harden and crumple like sand in water when he met Carol. He thought she was so stupid to be with Ed for the longest time—his abuse wasn't by choice, and he couldn't understand why she would subject herself to that on purpose—and then he realized Ed was just someone to pay the bills, someone who "just happened", and the only good outcome was Sophia. With Ed gone, Daryl could see her for who he knew she really was. She was a beautiful, strong, compassionate, teasing woman beneath all those scars, and she brought that out in him—some of it anyway. She made him stop trying to be a detached, hard-ass like Merle, and for the first time, he was _Daryl_ Dixon. It was awkward as hell, but he found his way. She was his way, his everything, and that was falling out of his reach more and more in that very moment. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't.

Rick watched Daryl's mask slip, revealing the face of such concern, such raw pain, a look Rick had seen only twice and that was with Merle. Merle was the only person that made Daryl hurt like this. Daryl loved Merle deeply, and Rick knew that. But this was Carol—not Merle. This was a woman who couldn't even speak to Daryl until Ed was mauled by walkers, a woman who fell apart so easily, a woman who had put herself back together when everything she'd ever had was taken. She found strength in her pain, but that wasn't true. Rick always thought it was, she'd even said she was strong herself, but no. No, it was _him_. She grew strong, because she had to protect the last person she loved unconditionally: Daryl. He could see that in Daryl's red-rimmed blue eyes as if they were Carol's. He was so stunned, and he stared at Daryl as Daryl began to pace again.

"I'll be right back." Rick went inside.

Daryl stared at him. "Rick! Get your ass out here! If I ain't allowed in there, you ain't!" Daryl opened the door, Rick stepped out and pushed him back. Daryl saw the look of disgust and sadness on Rick's face. "What? She okay?"

Rick met his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Daryl lunged, but Rick pushed him back. Daryl didn't give up. "You'd best move!"

Martinez and Glenn saw the struggle and ran over there, they grabbed Daryl, and it took all three men to subdue him, and he still got free. He stormed off against everything in him. He decided to find flowers for her room, cheer that dingy hole up. It cheered her up when Sophia went missing, it could do the same now. She could probably smell them while she slept, might calm her. He forced the tears in his eyes recede as he walked into the garden, and Lizzie ran after him.

"Daryl!" Lizzie panted as she caught up to him.

"Hey, Liz." He crouched down and looked over the flowers. There weren't right. They wouldn't do. "Need somethin'?"

"I wanna get Carol some flowers, like you." She met his eyes. "I—Well, she told me about a flower that you...gave her."

"Cherokee rose," he nodded. They would be prefect. "Wanna go on a run, kid?"

She nodded.

"Meet at the car in ten." He left the garden, she went to get the knife Carol gave her, and Daryl grabbed his crossbow from the stairs by Rick. He grabbed Glenn by the front of his new tee as he walked by and dragged him to the car. "I know Maggie's in there with 'em, so you can get in, right?"

"Yes." He adjusted his shirt. "I can get in, I mean."

"Good. I want you to in there, watchin' that "doctor". I don't like him, and I don't trust him. Will you do that for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

"She dies, I'm kickin' your Korean ass all the way back to Asia and into a herd of walkers." Glenn swallowed hard and stammered about how he didn't have medical knowledge, so he couldn't assure her survival. "Just stay with her for me, Short Round." He knocked the cap off his head. "You're too damn old for it."

"Maggie said the same thing," he muttered, picking it up. "I like my hat, so deal with it."

"Do I got your word or what?"

"You do. I'll do everything in my power to keep her alive."

Daryl eyed him. "Why're you still here? Go!"

"Right." He jogged over the building and disappeared inside as Lizzie joined Daryl by the car.

"Let's go." She climbed into the passenger seat.

Damn, the women in his life had him doin' everything but cartwheels and somersaults. His heart was, though. He felt so ill, and he didn't want to leave her. He grasped the ring and squeezed it. Better stay alive, woman, we ain't nearly done yet.

He got in the car, Lizzie already knew where to find them, and Daryl was surprised she didn't ask to drive. Shit, all theses kid act so damn grown. The hell? It was a welcome relief, having Lizzie bark orders at him, keeping him arguing with her, keeping his kind _off_ Carol's surgery.

––

"How's it goin'?" Glenn whispered to Maggie.

"Fine." She threw out bloody gauze. "She woke up, though. Woke up, Glenn." Maggie was upset. She told Mark to double the dosage, but he wouldn't. She didn't know why he wouldn't, but he would get an earful when this was over. If it's one thing she got from her mother that wasn't keeping her alive, it was her ability to lecture and lecture and lecture, especially about alcoholism. "Daryl send you?"

"I can't be here, because I care?"

"Cute, but you wouldn't be in here with her unless Daryl made you be here. Catch." She tossed gloves at him. "Gotta be useful if you're stayin'."

"I don't know how to do any of this." He sounded as frantic as he felt.

"Just keep the tools as blood-less as possibly. He's got butter fingers." It unnerved her that he was doing this. He dropped everything, and with those clumsy hands working inside Carol, she prayed for his sake he could steady them for the surgery. She went over to her father and IV bag, replacing the old one as it went empty, and she wiped her brow. This was going to take a while. He was clumsy and slow. He looked very determined nonetheless, and she felt confident in him, and she noticed how still his hands were. Good. He knows how to steady them. She didn't want any more death, not Carol's and not Mark's. Things were finally looking up, so please, God let them stay that way.

– – –

Daryl returned when the surgery was over, Lizzie and he put four vases in the room, Maggie smiled at how pleased they look, all covered in mud and a little bit of blood. It would make a great picture. Glenn didn't think so, but he nodded for his sake. He'd already pissed her off once today. He didn't want to do it again. His wife was scary angry.

"How's she doin'?" Daryl asked.

"Good," Hershel replied as he took her blood pressure. "She's breathing on her own now too."

"When wasn't she?" He glanced among them, Beth smacked Hershel's arm and smiled, trying to laugh it off. "What else ain't y'all told me?"

"Nothin'," Beth assured him. "I wasn't here for the surgery, but—"

"Don't lie. I can handle it. Tell me." They said nothing, and he crossed his arms. "Phillip's dead, so I got nobody to be pissed at, so tell me. If you don't, y'all are the ones I'm gonna be pissed at."

"It wasn't anything poisonous, right?" Lizzie swallowed as she saw their faces.

"Oh, honey, it ain't nothin' like that," Maggie assured her. "Why don't you and Beth go help the others? It's 'bout lunchtime."

"No," Lizzie firmly said, "I'm stayin' with her."

"Go on, Liz." Daryl dropped his arms. "Get cleaned up."

She looked over herself. "Fine, but I'll be back," she promised as Beth led her out.

"Tell me," Daryl repeated.

"This's how I figure it," Maggie began t explain what she thought happened, and Daryl chewed his lower lip.


	20. Dead

Mark padded down the stairs and checked on his one and only patient, finding Daryl already at her side. He'd come down to find him there for a week now. She woke up for brief periods, but never really managed to speak, and Daryl was usually not around. He'd learned the man's name from his constant staying over. He had to speak to him eventually.

"How she lookin'?" Daryl asked, exhausted.

"Well. She's responding to the medicine"— He gave her a sedative that broke her out in hives and nearly closed her throat a few nights ago, and Mark nearly met his own death by a tall, pissed off man who loved Carol dearly—"her wounds are healing, and she's not growling and trying to eat us." He added a bit of morphine to her IV. "You should rest."

"Nah." He fought back a yawn. "She might wake up. I ain't gonna miss that. Hell, you might even give her the wrong damn sedative again."

"That was genuinely an accident, and I cannot apologize anymore." He sighed through his nose. "I don't think it's wise, but it is _your_ decision. However you'll be seeing things if you keep this up, and you'll eventually die." He met his eyes. "I've got it covered."

He said nothing.

"Sleep on my couch then. It's right in there." He gestured behind Daryl. "Please. I want you to rest, and it's hurting me that you haven't slept in days."

The front door opened after a short knock, Beth came in with basket of freshly picked and washed fruit. She smiled at them. "I brought y'all some fruit." She removed the top layer of apples and peaches and handed it Daryl then handed the basket to Mark. "I'll bring lunch later."

"Thank you." He smiled sweetly. "I appreciate this."

"It's no problem." She looked at Carol. "Does she need any more blood?"

"No. No, her blood has balanced itself out." He set the basket down. "All she needs is rest and broth."

"Maggie's working on it," she assured him. "I'll bring it with me if it's done by dinner."

Daryl looked between the two of them as he ate, and he rolled his eyes. It's always like a damn romance novel with that girl.

She set her hand on his arm. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

He nodded.

"And you." She marched over to Daryl, hands on her hips, and he looked up at her through his bangs. "Get some rest. You got horrid bags. You won't be good to anyone if you're dead."

Daryl looked at Mark. "You been lettin' her read that doctor shit or what?" He stood up. "I don't need your concern. I'm goin' now."

"Good." She turned to the unconscious older woman and set her hand over Carol's. "Wake up soon."

"Here." He tossed a cross bracelet at her.

"I left this for her," she explained.

"I know. It's ain't yours." He kicked his boots off and plopped down on the couch, and she studied the craftsmanship of the item. "It's a thank you," he swallowed a bite of apple, "for givin' her blood."

"Just doin' my part. You woulda done it too, if you had the blood type."

He finished the apple and chucked the core into the trashcan.

She smiled. "I'll see you guys later then." She left and slipped on the bracelet, meeting Maria to help with kitchen detail.

– – –

Daryl rolled off the couch. He groaned and sat up. He'd slept on this thing so many times in the past couple of weeks, and he always managed to roll right off it. He felt someone watching him, and he turned his head. In the lamp lit room, he saw Carol was up. He shot up and went over to her.

She was disoriented for a moment then saw his face. "Daryl." She slid off the table and stumbled into him, her legs like jelly. She grasped the rough material of his shirt. Her throat and mouth were so dry. If she didn't think it would hurt, she would cough. Oh, how her body ached. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Easy." He hauled her upright.

She stepped back from him then scanned the room. "Where...?" She turned around.

"It's a gated community," he explained. "It's safe. Steel _and_ concrete walls."

She didn't want the story right, though she had missed the sound of his voice, that husky Southern drawl that made her shudder. But she was at the whim of her bladder. She only woke because of the pressing need to empty her bladder. She felt like her bladder would burst if she didn't go the bathroom in the next few seconds. She didn't want Daryl to know; however, she had no idea where she was or where the bathroom was. She would have to ask him.

"You okay?" He studied and his lips twitched. "You gotta pee, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Down the hall to the left." He pointed.

She scurried off, using the wall to keep her balance, and Daryl followed close behind to make sure she didn't fall and bust her head open. He could only watch her walk for about four steps before he intervened. She'd stumbled twice and nearly fell over, so Daryl gently picked her up. She groaned softly, her body complaining, but she rested her head on his chest, her arms around his neck. She noticed he'd bathed. He had the faint scent of...fruit on his breath. How long had he been here?

He nudged the bathroom door open with the tip of his foot, and he set her down on her feet. "Be right outside." He stepped back and closed the door with him.

She swayed for a moment then removed the disturbingly clean underwear she had on and sat down. She let go and exhaled in relief. She began to think about what happened. The last thing she could remember was Phillip knocking out one of her teeth and slitting her wrists. She couldn't feel any pain in her wrists, but her stomach ached. It felt like someone had sliced her open. They probably did. It brought her comfort to know she no longer had fingers and teeth in her stomach. She shuddered in memory and instantly thought of something else. Her tooth. Using her tongue, she felt the gap in the back of her mouth. Wonder if he fed me that tooth while I was unconscious. It wouldn't surprise her.

She finished using the bathroom and noticed she only wore a white T-shirt. It almost went to her knees, and she saw some of the cuts had healed. Her ankle was wrapped, but it didn't hurt. How much sedative did they give her? Or had she slept through her recovery?

She lifted her shirt and saw the almost completely healed cuts and gashes. Some of them would scar, but the majority of them wouldn't. She lowered it and opened the door, Daryl was right outside, and she met his eyes. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah, put five bullets in the son of a bitch," he assured her. "An arrow to the chest too."

"Good." She stepped out of the bathroom, but her legs gave out.

Daryl caught her before she fell on her knees. He picked her up gently and carried her back to her room. She set her down on the table. "I'll get Hershel."

"Not yet." She met his eyes.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," he said and padded up the stairs where Hershel and Mark were staying. He knocked on both doors, but naturally, Mark answered first. "She's up."

"Oh." He didn't seem to be sleeping. He went downstairs and tended to her as Daryl informed Hershel. They came down together as Mark checked her blood pressure. He made a note of it, but gave a comforting smile. She was doing well.

"How are you feelin'?" Hershel asked her, glad to see her finally wake.

"Never better," she mused.

Daryl leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, and the smile on his lips was barely contained as he heard them confirm she was doing well. His chest felt so light after being so heavy. He just...slumped in relief. God, was it good to hear her heavenly voice, that infectious laughter, see that beautiful smile. It warmed him down to his toes, and then he had to push some other thoughts back. They had time to talk about it. He was smiling inside. They had time.

Hershel asked Daryl to go get something for her to eat, like soup, nothing heavy. He nodded and headed to the town kitchen. It was the only one that had power so far. He found Beth and Maria inside, laughing, chopping up vegetables, and he eyed them for a moment then remembered it wasn't as early as it was when they'd begun looking Carol over.

"She's awake." Beth knew by his expression and by the fact that he had left her side. "And she needs soup." She looked over what they had cooking and grabbed a thermos. She filled it with broth and softened carrots and celery. "I'll come with you." She grabbed two wrapped bags and handed him the thermos. "I told Daddy I'd bring him somethin' to eat," she explained as they went back to the medical building.

"Sure this ain't got nothing to do with Mark?"

"No." She was blushing internally. "Why do you care?"

"'Cause you're sweet on the boy," he replied. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-three," she replied. "And I'm interested in the profession."

"'Course."

"You're infuriatin'." She waited for him to open the door.

"Payback's a bitch," he replied.

"So, you're proposin'?" Beth met his eyes.

He opened the door. "In."

She smirked and went inside. She set the wrapped food items on the table and hugged Carol tightly. Carol smiled and held the young girl close, glad she was okay. "I'm so glad you're awake." Beth stepped back. "Had me worried."

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine. What you did for me..." Beth felt tears in the back of her eyes, "thank you."

"It's what we do," she replied.

She nodded and stepped back. "We brought you breakfast." She fetched a mug from the kitchen, Daryl took it and filled with the steaming liquid, and Beth handed Hershel and Mark the wrapped item.

They ate in a pleasant silence, Daryl and Carol exchanged frequent glances, Beth and Mark kept making eyes, Hershel pretended not to noticed, but with the looks flying around room, it was hard not to. Hershel was thankful when Maggie came in, dirt-covered and sweating, but came in.

"I need your help," she panted. "Beth, Daryl, come with me." She saw Carol and waved, breathless. "Give me a minute...and I'll give you a sweaty hug."

"Walkers?" Daryl shot up.

"No, that damn cow," she panted. "I need you to help me get back in enclosure." She hugged Carol gently. "Good to have you back."

Carol smiled. "It's good to be back." She glanced at Daryl, not wanting him to go, and Mark saw that look. He stepped up.

"I'll go," Mark offered. "I've dealt with that cow for months."

"I think I'll go too." Hershel rose. "I could use the fresh air and Carol's doing well on her own. Just holler if you need us."

Maggie and Beth met eyes as the four of them left the building, and Carol laughed, but only briefly, because it hurt.

"What?"

She swallowed more soup. "I'm suddenly glad my dad passed away years ago."

Daryl chewed the inside of his lower lip.

She set the empty mug down and slid off the table, Daryl instantly closed the space between them and tried to move her back, but she shook her head. "I need some exercise."

He frowned, but moved to the side. "Be careful."

She nodded and tested her legs then began moved about the room as he watched her every step, his body ready to run and catch her should she fall, but she was doing well. It made them both smile. "So, where are we? I never let you finish."

He filled her in out the gated community, the people, the food and gardens, and the involvement of the Army. He found out last week that the Army made monthly trips to the gated communities that kept in contact with them, and Alex had a radio. They gave them what they needed to restart this place and helped with the fortifications. He told her about the yearly ceremony for the dead—both reanimated and dead. He told her about the house Lizzie and Mika had decided on. He gave her a recap of everything, and she listened without saying a word. She was lost in thought.

"You got Merle's bike."

"Me and Maggie did," she nodded. "I know how much it meant to you. It was the only thing you have to remember Merle by, besides memories."

"That was awful kind of you." He then glared. "And dumb as shit. That prison was overrun. It wasn't safe." She lied down and rested her head on the pillow behind her. "What're you doin'?"

"Sleeping through this lecture." She smiled at him.

He leaned over her. "You ain't sleepin'. You're eatin'. You only got broth in you, so you need get some more, gather some strength and heal. Got me worried enough without gettin' me worryin' over whether you're eatin' or not."

"You shouldn't worry so much—"

"Woman, I ain't ever been so damn worried in my whole life. Finish that. I'll get you some water."

It wasn't just her life anymore, and it wasn't just his life anymore. They belonged to each other, and that was how it was supposed to be. It wasn't like property, it was like...a match made to survive this world.

He smiled half-way at her before he left to get the water. He liked the sound of that. And he would wait until she was ready to talk about what happened, what Phillip had done to her. He could wait for years if she needed that much time. He was ready to wait forever for her.


	21. For A While Now

Daryl woke to the sound of shuffling, he felt someone touching him, and his eyes snapped open. It was Carol. He sat up and met her eyes in the dark of the room. He was about to ask if she was okay, but he didn't get the chance to. It was Carol who had woke him up, but it wasn't with the intention to talk or play a word game.

Her wounds had healed considerably over the past few weeks, and she was able to leave tomorrow evening, move into the house her girls had chosen, and not be watched constantly by two doctors. She knew how attentive Lizzie and Mika would be, and that didn't leave much room for her...other needs. It was a combination of want and need. She wanted Daryl, right now, right there, because she needed to know he was here. She needed to feel his skin against her, needed his arms to grip her tightly, and needed his warmth and love. They hadn't really talked about his confession. She didn't think he was ready to just yet.

She straddled his lap, her knees against the back of the bench he'd fall asleep on, and she grasped his chin, caressing his cheek. Her lips found his in a mess of hungry need and dark want. He knew immediately what she wanted to, and he didn't want to, not at...all. His mind didn't want to, but as for his body... His body had entirely different opinion. She could feel his arousal beneath her, and a moan slipped through her lips. She slid her hand down from his cheek toward the zipper of his worn black jeans, and he pushed on her hips, partly wanting to help her, partly wanting to stop her. His want for her outweighed his want for her to stop.

Once he was free of his jeans, she sank down on top of him slowly, and he groaned slightly, his hands tightening on her hips. They waited, very still, savoring the feel of the each other. Carol intertwined their fingers, her blue eyes falling in his, and they both moved at the same time. She pushed up with her knees, he titled into her at the right angle, and the sensation was... She moaned into his mouth.

Their breathing escalated, Daryl held her tightly, his lips traveling down the soft flesh of her chest, causing her to grasp the back of the bench, her nails digging to the wood at the feel of him deep inside. Their hearts were both pounding at the closeness, but Carol felt a tugging near her stomach, and she knew it was the remaining stitches. She groaned softly, and Daryl didn't notice, because it was like the little moans she was letting out moments ago. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he came, and she felt warmth spreading over the bandage.

"Don't," she whispered softly when he opened his mouth. "I'm fine." She kissed his lightly.

He, of course, didn't listen. He lifted her up gently and adjusted himself. He grabbed a few gauze and cleaned the blood from the wound before smoothing down another bandage. "Knew it was a bad idea."

"That didn't stop you," she teased.

His lips pulled up in his half-smile. "Suppose not." He rested his forehead against hers, his fingers pushing through hers on the table.

"I guess we can work it on." She smiled softly. "We have a lot to work on, and I think we—Daryl?" A hot tear splashed on her cheek, sliding down as though it was her own. Her eyes found his in the dimly lit room, and her heart tightened.

He was trembling, she released his hands and grasped his cheeks, wiping the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He grasped her hands in his tightly. "You had me so damn worried," he told her, his voice shaky. He'd been holding in so many emotions, and he couldn't do it anymore. "When Glenn found you... you was all bloody and beaten, and I thought you had died." He buried his face in the crook of her neck so she wouldn't see him, not like this. "And when Glenn tried to get you to breathe, I—I just stood there like a damn fool. I gave up on you. I'm so sorry."

"Daryl." Her eyes burned at his words.

"I thought I'd lost my mind when you breathed. I thought I was hearin' things, but you was alive. You was alive. You came back to me...again."

They both recalled him finding her bloody and dehydrated in that small little cell, barely able to push the door open, and for her to hear him say that, she couldn't stand it anymore.

She lifted his head in her hands, kissing the tears away. "You didn't give up on me. You were trying to protect yourself, and I understand. I understand." She caressed his cheek and pulled him closer. "Can I let you in on a little secret?"

He nodded.

"I'd given up myself, and then...I heard your voice. I heard _your_ voice and fought my way back to you. God, I love you, Daryl Dixon." She couldn't keep the tears away anymore. "I love you with every fiber of my being, and I will _never_ stop loving you." She looked into his eyes. "Does that scare you? Be honest with me, please."

He grasped the back of her head gently, her eyes closed momentarily, and he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. "A lotta shit scares me, but that ain't one of 'em, not from you." He didn't kiss her, but he wanted to. Badly, but he wouldn't be able to stop. "Carol, look at me."

She opened her eyes.

"I love you." He searched her eyes, and her heart just swelled at the sound of it. "I love you so damn much, and I ain't ever lettin' somethin' like this happen to you again. No one's ever gonna hurt you like this again. It'll be over my dead body."

"That's not what I want to hear, Daryl." She cupped the back of his neck with her hands. "All you had to say was you love me. I know the rest. I've always known it."

His lips twitched.

"If you don't kiss me," she warned as he leaned down and crushed his mouth to her, pulling her up to him by the nape of her neck. She felt her heart flutter in her chest as he kissed her harder, his tongue caressing her, and she gripped the material of his shirt, pushing up on her toes.

He pulled back. "We can't."

She nodded and saw the couch was made up. Ah! "We should probably...get back to bed."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

She gestured behind them. "Wanna crash with me on the couch? I can't sleep on the table anymore."

"Sure." He kicked his boots out of the way and plopped down on the couch. It was a curve to it that fit his body now, and Carol lied down in between him and the couch, resting her head on his chest, pulling the thin blanket over them. He closed his eyes when he heard her speak.

"Wanna screw around?" she whispered.

"Carol."

She giggled and buried her face in his chest. Damn, he loved that sound. "There's always tomorrow."

"Yeah, there is." His lips brushed over her forehead. "But it's still no. You ain't better yet. Give it time."

"That really isn't a problem," she teased, he blushed, and she laughed again. "I love you, Daryl." She kissed him and relaxed against him, closing her eyes, drifting off to his warmth and the sound of his heart beating in time with hers.

– – –

Carol had had enough of sitting on her ass, so she stole the outfit Beth had brought over. No one knew that Beth and Mark had become an item, and that Beth was spending most nights with him. They talked a lot, Mark had some issues to work out, and Beth was more than willing to work them out with him. Carol had covered for them a few times, and she didn't mind, because they were sweet. All they ever did was kiss, and Carol had caught them making out once, but leaving the room quickly made up for that. She kind of lied to Hershel when he asked, but Hershel had his suspicions. A father always knows, he told Beth and Carol, trying to get it out of them. He had no such luck.

Daryl and Rick were preparing a bonfire. It was for Lizzie's birthday, and Carl had begged them for a party. They were good friends, but Daryl saw the look Carl had when Lizzie met him for a walk or to tend to the crops. It was the same look Rick gave Lori after his first night at camp, the same look Carl used to give Beth. Daryl made a mental note to warn both Rick and Carl. Lizzie had grown on him, Mika too, and no one was touching them when they were teenagers, and Lizzie was a few years away from being that age. He was already dreading it. He went from having only Merle to having two kids and Carol. Damn, life can throw you curve ball.

"Hey, Daryl." Lizzie walked over to him. She wore her cowboy boots and a blue dress with small white flowers sewn in, her hair down her back—like any preteen. Carol made the dress for her birthday, and Lizzie loved it. Daryl had to pry it out of her hands when Carol had to make adjustments to it. Little girl was strong too.

"Hey, Liz." He wiped his brow and removed the gloves. "You look pretty."

"Thanks." She smiled. "I was thinking since it's my birthday and all, couldn't Carol come home? Isn't she healed enough?" She looked at him and Rick.

"I gotta check on Judith." Rick left quickly.

"Liz, she can't."

"She can."

He turned and found Carol behind him, Lizzie hugged her, and Carol smiled, enjoying the fresh air. "You supposed to be in bed."

"I'm so glad you're up, ma'am!" Lizzie was beaming. "You'll be able to make it? Really?"

"I wouldn't miss it." She tucked hair behind Lizzie's hair. "Don't call me ma'am, Lizzie."

"What should I call you?"

"I don't know. I like Mom."

Lizzie's smile got wider—if possible. "Okay. I'll see you tonight, Mom."

"Hey, where're you goin'?" Daryl called after her.

"Carl's taking me to the garden," she called back.

"Carl?" He narrowed his eyes as Lizzie met Carl by the garden and took his hand. "Friends don't hold hands."

Carol laughed. "I didn't expected the stereotype."

"He's older than her," Daryl defended.

"By what? A year?" She held her side.

"A year makes a big difference. He's a boy too. I know how a sixteen year old boy thinks."

"They're not sixteen yet," Carol informed. "Lizzie's twelve, and Carl's thirteen. Besides Michonne had dibs on punishing him if he gets her pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Daryl exclaimed. "He ain't goin' nowhere near her. I'll keep her locked in the house." Carol laughed. "It ain't funny. How're you not concerned?"

"Because I know what a sixteen year old girls thinks like, and you won't be able to stop her when she's ready. It's Carl or that annoy kid...Thomas."

"No guy be better," he murmured. "Damn kid ain't mine, and I'm worryin'. This is your fault."

"I know. I love it." She slid her arms around his waist. "We need to talk."

"No, you needa lie down."

"Daryl." She met his eyes. "I need to talk to you."

He swallowed. "You think you're ready?"

"I am. I know that I am."

"C'mere." He took her hand and led her to the house where he and the girls were living. "The girls picked it out."

"I like it. It's cute."

They went inside, Carol loved their bedroom, spacious and it felt like home. She sat on the bed, Daryl sat in a chair he moved by the bed, and they sat in silence. He held her hands, rubbing small circle into the palms like she did with him when she was tired. It was soothing her, and she began to speak.

"It was all physical," she told him softly. "Ed's endless rants and taunts actually helped me to see the bullshit in his mind games, but the pain...was so much. I felt like it was everywhere, all the time. Everything was blurry, and I was so scared, but I couldn't let him know that."

He clenched his jaw and held her hands tighter.

She sniffed. "He wanted to know where we were now, and he wasn't playing around. Bob hadn't told him when he asked. Bob claimed he was never with us after the prison fell. He was protecting Judith and Carl and Lizzie and Mika, I think."

"Don't make him a good man."

"No, it doesn't." She paused. "When he couldn't torture it out of me...he brought in helpless innocents and just slaughtered them in front of me. The bodies you found me with? They were the people he killed. I was so dizzy from the blood loss, and I wasn't sure what was real and what was fake. I blacked out." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I felt something going down my throat, I was gagging and I opened my e—eyes. He had a tube down my throat and was dropping teeth into the tube." She shuddered and covered her mouth as her breakfast threatened to come up.

Daryl stood up. "You don't gotta tell me no more."

"I had to swallow the fingers. He wanted me to know it was my fault they were dead. He wanted me to have a piece of them in me," she told him, her mouth filling with saliva. "Two of them had wedding rings on."

He grabbed the trashcan beside the bed, and she threw up her breakfast. "It's all right. He's dead, and it ain't gonna happen again." He rubbed her back, and she wiped her mouth, sitting back, crying.

"It was my fault. I let them die. It was my fault."

He held her close. "Don't think like that. It ain't true. It wasn't your fault. He was a sick man." He soothed her as she cried. "It wasn't your fault."

She gripped his shirt tightly, seeing the fear of the people she had seen, and only some of them were real. She wished she could go back and save them. She wanted to go back and save them all. God, she missed the people who lost their lives to get them there. There would be no true happy ending in this world, just small victories.

– – –

Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Mark and Alex were doing their weekly killing of walkers just outside the gate. Rick insisted on keep that number low, and they all agreed. The woman were cleaning vegetables, cooking meat, and preparing a feast for tonight's dinner. It was the first of the month, and they did it every first according to Alex and Mark. They took the best of the meat, vegetables and even used sugar to make dessert. It was to celebrate those gone and those who had just arrived. They'd found ten more survivors this month, and they were adjusting to this lifestyle. There were boys around Beth's age, but she was already quite taken, much to Hershel's displeasure, with Dr. Slator. And Carl and Lizzie had become even close friends. Michonne often teased Carol about how they'd have to lock the house at night when they became teenagers—it was her favorite way to pass time. Daryl, who had become like the girls' father, frowned along with Rick and that only made them laugh harder. They were laughing again, and it felt great. It was like before, and this time, it was actually true.

Carol wiped her hands and went to check on the girls and Carl. Lizzie and Carl were playing a card game; Mika and Judith were helping Beth with the cooking. Judith was just playing with the herbs though. She saw Daryl motioning for her to come out, so she removed her apron and headed outside. She needed to talk to him anyway. They went to the garden—it was the only private place at the moment—and Daryl looked stiff.

She eyed him. "Are you all right?"

"I am. I've been all right for a while now, and that has a lot to do with you." He met her beautiful blue eyes. "I love you, Carol, and I never thought I would find someone like you."

She smiled at his words.

He pulled out the ring, and her jaw fell open. He studied it then grasped her hand. "I ain't askin' for you to marry me. I'm askin' for you to always be mine. I can't lose you. I just can't."

She smiled through the tears that were building up in her eyes. "You didn't have to give me a ring for me to always be yours," she whispered softly, grasping his cheeks in her hands. "I've always been yours."

He smiled an actual, full smile.

"I have always loved you, Daryl Dixon. That is the only constant thing in this world." She kissed him, and he took her left hand off his cheek and gently slid the ring onto her finger. She pulled back and met his eyes. "Daryl..."

"What is it?" He searched her eyes for any kind of hint. "Carol?"

"This really is a lovely ring." She stepped back. "But I'm not the only one who needs one."

"Huh?"

She pulled out a set of silver bands. "I found them at the apartments."

His lips twitched. He didn't want to wear a ring.

"Daryl," she scolded, as if reading his mind.

"I ain't wearing no ring."

"Do you want me to tattoo Property Of Carol on you instead?"

"Gimme that." He took the ring, and she laughed. He fitted it onto his finger and met her eyes. "This all? Got a set of matchin' earrings to?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"I'm kiddin'." He eyed it. Damn, that was noticeable.

"I do have something else," she informed him. "Something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

He gaped. "Pre—pregnant?"

She nodded. "Hershel said it was very rare for a woman in her forties to get pregnant, but I guess you've even got that covered."

He fell back on the bench behind him. Holy shit. He was going to be a father. He could handle Lil Ass Kicker, but she wasn't his. Carol mostly handled Lizzie and Mika, but shit, this one was his. He paled. Lori died giving birth. He met her eyes, and she crouched down in front of him. "You can't..."

"Hershel and I talked," she explained. "Beth's agreed to give blood when I'm go into labor, and we have a sterile room and equipment. It won't be like Lori."

He nodded.

"If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure it's a boy." She studied his eyes. "Sophia never made me eat as much or sleep as late."

He groaned into his hands. "Are you sure? Pregnant? Not...indigestion or somethin'?"

She giggled. "You can handle a herd of walkers and not a baby?"

He sighed. "Who else knows?"

"Beth and Hershel and Michonne." She sat beside him on the bench. "I'm at least two months."

_Great, he had seven months to freak the hell out. _He never thought she'd get pregnant. It's wasn't like they did it every single night, but when they did... He exhaled. "Let's tell 'em tonight then."

"Okay."

They stood up and headed to the exit, Carol slipped her hand into his and wrapped her free arm around his, leaning into him. He kissed the top of her head lightly, and she said, "Carol Dixon."

"You like that?" She nodded. "So do I."

She met his eyes, "You're gonna be a Daddy."

He groaned again, but it was happier than the first time. _Daddy... What has this woman done to him?_ If Merle could see him now, he'd probably wanna pummel him. Daryl was happy for the first time in his life. Had they apocalypse not come, he would probably be in jail with Merle. It's ironic how your life starts when it ends.

** [We are coming to a close on Can You Stop? Thank you all for the helpful reviews! I hope you all enjoy these last few chapters!]**


	22. Can You Stop?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

Everyone gathered around, their number and community had expanded since the previous year, and they were there to mourn those who had been lost. Lizzie and Carl were holding hands, which caused Michonne to lightly nudge Carol in the side, and Rick and Daryl both could feel the strain of keeping them apart in the coming years. Carol just smiled.

Beth and Mark were also holding hands. Beth had been helping through the loss of his parents for the past two years, and he was finally able to come this year. Apparently Carol reminded him of his mother, who he tried to save, but he couldn't. She turned so quick. He nearly died himself, and he wanted to give anything to turn back time and redo that moment. It was the reason he couldn't let Carol die, why he worked so slow to make sure he got everything. He had to save her this time. He worked through all of that with Beth, and they were planning to tie the knot. Hershel was still bitter. Beth was his baby, and she was growing up. It was the best feeling Hershel had felt in years. She was growing up. They all were able to grow up and grow old and die of old age. They would come back, but that was a part of life. It was part of the norm, even if it still left scars behind on them all.

Maggie and Glenn held a picture—one of Maggie and Lily since they had no sonogram of the child that hadn't make it. Maggie had finally told him about the child that was lost after their little girl was born, and they added it to the many pictures that hung up, lighting yet another candle. There were so many candles lit, each for a different person or a family. Lizzie and Carl and Beth had carved the names of Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia, Dale, and Shane into one pink candle and Lori, T-dog, Axel, Oscar, Merle, and Andrea into the other candle. The ones who lost their lives at the prison, both form walkers and flu had their names craved into the candle beside them. They were burning brightly, and Carol could spot the picture of the beautiful little girl with red hair from here. It was yet another gift from the Army. They taken the time and energy to make laminated copies of those lost from government files. The world wasn't together, but it would be. They had time. They finally had time.

"Your son wants you," Carol informed Daryl as their two-year-old grew fussy.

He crouched down. "Hey, Lil' Man, we talked about this." Daryl looked into the blue eyes of their small boy, who looked exactly like his father only with the eyes of his mother. "This is important."

He crossed his arms. "Not to Daniel."

"Hey." Daryl uncrossed his little arms. "It's important to your mama and I." He glanced at Carol then whispered, "You and me are gonna," he pulled the trigger to an invisible crossbow, "only if you behave."

Daniel nodded.

"Good." He stood up, and Carol arched a brow. "What?"

"Can you stop corrupting our child?" she teased.

"I ain't corrupting him none." He crossed his arms.

"Fine." She met his eyes. "Can you stop loving them? Loving us?"

"Hell, no."

"Can _you_ stop?"

She smiled and was going to answer, but she saw Daniel tugging on Judith's pigtails. She gestured to Daniel, telling Daryl silently to the his son. Today was Daryl's day to be the bad guy. "Daniel Merle Dixon," Carol softly scolded as to not interrupt the ceremony.

Judith got annoyed and shoved Daniel, Carol covered her mouth to hide a smile—she really was becoming a little ass kicker—and Daniel got upset. Daryl hauled him up as Michonne redid Judith's pigtails, scolding her on pushing Daniel. "All right, Lil' Man. It's all right. You shouldn't have done it."

Merle was Daryl's idea. He was so insistent. He wanted to remember Merle for all of the good he had done. It was rare, but when it happened, it meant the world to Daryl. He wanted that small piece of the good Merle did to be remembered in the form of their little boy. It would be too.

Carol set a hand on Daniel's shoulder, and his small fingers curled around her hand. She smiled. She couldn't stop either. She would _never_ stop.

**[Here endth the story. Thanks for reading!]**


End file.
